


I Named Us Grief

by CananaBananalism, FloodFeSTeR



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Acceptance, Angst and Feels, Canon-Typical Violence, Comfort, Death, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Eventual Romance, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hearts of Stone (The Witcher 3 DLC), Heavy Angst, Humor, Internal Conflict, Melancholy, Past Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Regret, Romance, Romance isn't the main focus, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Some Humor, Triggers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:20:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 42,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26355619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CananaBananalism/pseuds/CananaBananalism, https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloodFeSTeR/pseuds/FloodFeSTeR
Summary: Olgierd never mentions the woman tending his family crypt, a quiet one named Aislin, one still carrying a blind devotion to his long-dead brother, Vlodimir. Whether Geralt likes it or not, Aislin is the one that can help him, and Olgierd, out of his deal with Gaunter O'Dimm.But some skeletons are better left in the closet, some secrets should never be told, and not all love is meant to be.A story told in ten parts, from the point of view of the dreamer that never forgot Olgierd von Everec.Even when he forgot about her.[ New chapter posted every Tuesday! ]
Relationships: Olgierd von Everec/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the poem of the same name, and the stripped version of Cringe by Matt Maeson.

_I call us part dread, part song  
_ _part story, part wrong._

* * *

He remembered her.

He remembered her playing in the garden of their estate, clinging to his brothers coat when the other children bullied her and then. . .

_Why couldn't have it been him?_

* * *

_She doesn't scream when they hold her down._

" _Freak._ "

They spit on her and she doesn't cry, keeps staring at the sky and doesn't try to fight; what would be the point? They would catch her again.

"Aislin talks to ghosts!"

"She's a witch!"

"Burn the witch!"

Children were cruel.

_She screams when they drag her to the woods._

Her bare feet slip and slide in the mud, the dead leaves, tears finally slipping down her cheeks as she begs for her mother. But they laugh at her, they all laugh and continue to drag and pull and push her to their makeshift pillar in the woods. One of them has rope waiting for her, a pleased little grin on his face when the others force her to her knees.

Fat tears fall from her eyes, blood dribbling down from her nose as she stared up at the snickering faces of the village children that had her at their mercy. 

"Witches don't get trials," the boy with the rope says and the others laugh, taunting Aislin still. "Witches just get _burned._ "

It doesn't matter how hard she thrashes in their grip, Aislin is outnumbered and she knows this, but she isn't ready to die. It's usually just torment, maybe they cut her hair off again, or make her eat mud and newts like last time, but she wouldn't get such easiness now. How does no one hear her screaming for help? Begging for her mother, calling her name and crying for the others to let her _go home._

When they have her tied to the pillar, Aislin wails and kicks, her eyes wide in terror as they pile dried leaves and sticks beneath her. Her feet kick away the debris until one of the older boys in the group hits her across the face, stunning the young girl. He chuckles when he sees the look on her face, the wide eyes full of tears and the heavy tremble in her bottom lip.

Her heart feels like its going to burst out of her chest when they all scatter to find a way to light the pile beneath her, to burn her. She can hear them running and giggling, questioning which sticks would be better to use and Aislin has given up on screaming in favor of quietly crying. Her shoulders tremble and her feet shuffle in the sticks around her feet; would a prayer work? Her father always said a prayer would fix her woes...

Aislin's head snaps up when she hears steps behind her, a whimper coming from her lips when she hears the unmistakable sound of a knife leaving its sheath.

"I-I don't want to die," she begs, her voice low and broken. The steps grew closer, soft pants from a boy behind her. "Please!"

Aislin is confused when she hears the rope being sawed at, yelping when she falls forward off of the pillar and hits the ground. Her legs get scraped by the branches that had been piled beneath her and Aislin whimpers at the jolt of pain, dust in her mouth and nose. Someone grabs her hand before she can look up, not patient enough to let her cough out the dirt and debris, cry over her scrapes and bruises.

" _Come on_."

Aislin looks up at the boy that has her hand now, relieved it wasn't one of the boys that had been hurting her. He doesn't look scared, but impatient, and he pulls her to her feet to start running. Aislin stares at the back of his head, not daring to look back when she heard the angry gathering of bullies back at the pire. She could hardly keep pace with this stranger, but she tightened her hand in his and tried her best to keep from tripping until they were well out of the woods.

The boy finally lets her go when they reach the road, and Aislin falls with a small whimper, flat on her face in the dirt. She looks up when she hears the boy give an _oomph_ , seeing him sitting in the dirt beside her; he is greedily gulping in air as well. 

When he looks down, they finally make eye contact and he smiles at her, a big toothy, goofy grin. Aislin hesitates, but slowly smiles as well, new tears in her eyes - but she is happy this time.

* * *

When her eyes open, Aislin reaches up to find a tear slipping down into her hair. She stares at the wetness on the tip of her finger for a long time, rubbing it into her sheets with a heavy sigh before heaving herself out of bed.

Almost twenty years had passed, and yet she still dreamed of that day occasionally.

Only occasionally.

As she sits at her window, brushing out the knots from her hair, Aislin thinks about the _what ifs_ and scolds herself for dwelling. He would _not_ want her to do that, to think about something that did not happen. Always looking forward was what he wanted for her, for himself, thought it was a better way to go about life.

Aislin always agreed.

"Calm down," Aislin murmured to her mare when she approached, holding out a hand to the horse. "Sashi, we go through this every day."

The horse tossed her head again and brushed her lips against the palm of Aislin's hand before her haunches trembled and she took off to the far end of her paddock. Aislin watched Sashi snickering and trotting in circles before she turned her eyes to the sky, seeing dark clouds rolling in. That couldn't be why her mare was acting especially frisky, there was something in the air that humans just couldn't feel. Despite Aislins abilities, she was no exception to the perceptiveness of animals and she was in turn very jealous.

"Fine, I'll just walk into the village and you can sit here all alone," Aislin muttered, and as if in response the mare snorted and continued to trot around her paddock. "Of course you're just ignoring me still..." 

Aislin shook her head as she walked away, wrapping her scarf a little tighter around her neck and listening to the leaves crunch beneath her feet. Looking over her shoulder, Aislin cast a fleeting glance at the towering manor to her left before speeding up and focusing her eyes on the road. No matter how fearful of the place she was, Aislin could never bring herself to find a new home - the little shack at its gate was all she had, all she had known for _so long_ , it seemed like she had always been here.

The villager at the sales stand tries to make conversation, but Aislin is sure to make it clear that she doesn't want for conversation today. It makes her feel guilty when the elderly man in charge of the sales stand frowns, but she can't even find the words to apologize. What was the point, anyway, Aislin hardly came into the village as it was - this elderly man was the only person she conversed with, and that meant sparse _hello's_ and questions about crop freshness. Perhaps that was enough for her to feel guilty for not responding? 

Aislin decides to give him a small smile and a nod, gaining a smile in return before she turned around and prepared to read the town's notice board.

Aislin stops before she can reach the board, giving the children that ran past her a small chuckle while they chased each other. Aislin had grown to think of the village of Brunwich fondly. Flowers bloomed across every inch of the village, a welcome sight in the pale colors of the surrounding wilderness. Aislin wondered who tended to the flowers, it must be a loving touch with how many varieties she could see; she was impressed. Aislin herself had only managed a small patch, and it was hard to maintain.

"A wedding?" Aislin narrowed her eyes softly at the purposefully bold letters on the board staked into the ground in front of her. "A fitting season, for luck I presume. Fertility maybe?" She shouldn't be mumbling in public.

"Ma'am.... _Ma'am_?" Aisling turned around and saw the elderly man pointing back down the road, where she had come from. "Seems there's a gatherin' at your hut."

Aislin felt her stomach knot and looked up, not hesitating to start running back towards her home. Though it was faint, she could see the horses at her home, about five or six people. Sweat beaded along her brow halfway, Aislin tossing her basket into the grass on the side of the road; she could come for it later, if scavengers didn't first - her home was most important, and the tomb. Aislin would not hesitate to defend from marauders, she had done so multiple times. Last time, it had been her horse they had come for, before that they were seeking valuables buried in the crypt, before _that_ \- the manor.

Aislin grit her teeth and felt sparks along the skin if her palms, her forearms as well; her scarf had untangled and was ripped from her neck, fluttering back behind her and onto the road.

Sashi was raising Hell, snorting and rearing up on the man and woman that were coming at her with rope in hand. Aislin saw one other headed up the path to the tomb, toting two horses with him by their reigns. They wanted everything this time?

"Get away from my home!"

The duo trying to wrangle her horse turned to Aislin, looking irritated. "Relax, girl," the woman snapped when Aislin reached the fencing. "Can't ya see she broke the gate? We were makin' sure she didn' get out."

Aislin glared at them for a moment, glancing over at the gate that was hanging on by one latch, the fence post it locked onto ripped right out of the ground. How hard had Sashi been kicking at it? Surely that couldn't just be because of the _storm_ , she had only ever broken the fence once and that was to escape the wolf that had gotten through the posts. But there were no signs of predators, surely Sashi had broken it not too long before the man had caught her attention and pointed out these people.

Aislin clenched her fists. "Get away from my home," she ground out between her teeth. "I won't say it again."

The man finally made a sound, a heavy, tired _sigh_ of all things. It reminded Aislin of her father, though this man couldn't be much older than she was. His partner looked irritated still, like she was biting her tongue.

"Boss told us not to mess with nothin." He jerked a thumb towards the path leading to the crypt. "He's in there."

Aislin hesitated, but her mare was snickering softly in the corner, far from the strangers and far from the broken gate. She didn't know these people, she could handle them easily though...

"Watch her for me." Aislin turned around, focused entirely on the open doors ahead of her.

She was angry, yes, but she was also _terrified_ of what these people wanted. Maybe it was a trick, and they were making off with her horse while the others waited in ambush down in the tomb. Aislin ran past the man along the path, spooking the horses and causing him to yell at her, but Aislin was focused on not stumbling up the steps. The iron bars of both the gate and then the crypt door stung when she slammed her palms against them to swing them open.

The braziers were lit, lonely candles giving off warm light in private alcoves; it smelt of dust and rot, she hadn't had the chance to clean the chambers in a few days. 

_Not the time!_

She stops on the bottom step, panting with her fists still clenched from before. 

There was a silhouette of a man standing at one coffin, the candles giving her no insight save for broad shoulders and an imposing height by her standards. The rings on his fingers shimmered in the light as he ran a hand over the blade of the saber on display; it was almost _reverent_ , the simple action. He had noticed her already, looking over his shoulder at her and all she could make out of his facial features were his mustache that lightly curled up at the edges, and the faint shimmer of blue eyes.

"Are you the one that takes care of the tomb?" He turned to face her fully now, and his eyes were as piercing as she thought. "It seems I miss you every time I visit, save for now, of course."

Aislin just stared at him, her mouth dry and her hands suddenly clammy. He stared at her still, his own hands clasped behind his back and patiently waiting for her to respond in some way. But Aislin couldn't speak, she could hardly _think_ staring into those eyes, those _damn eyes._ He seemed to take her silence in stride, taking slow, methodical steps towards the alter in the center of the chamber. All the while, Aislin kept her eyes glued to him, unmoving, still unable to speak.

"True, it has been some months since I had the chance to visit...perhaps you are -"

" _Olgierd_ ," she whispered, finally taking a step forward; the simple tap echoed in the small room.

He didn't tense up or anything, he just stared into the brazier in front of him and seemed to be pondering something. When he looked over at her again, he had this curious look on his face, _puzzled_. Aislin felt a chill ripple from her hair to her toes as he turned and began to approach her, his steps as slow and methodical and a jaguar in hunting; or perhaps he was more wolf, shoulders rolling and paws silent in the underbrush, inches from the rabbit.

He was nearly a foot from her now, so close she could smell the musk of wine he must drown himself in these days. Aislin didn't recoil, she was still in shock it was actually _him_ , he was standing in front of her, when she had thought...

"I'm sorry...have we met?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before there is any confusion, this is a sort of flashback chapter! Its not particularly exciting, more of our soft background since this isn't a long fanfic.

_We built our castles out of each other  
_ _out of splintered spine and blood._

* * *

His name is Vlodimir von Everec.

He saved her life.

When they escaped the riot of children wishing to burn Aislin, Vlodimir takes her to his mother and begs for her to bring Aislin home with them. Aislin says nothing the whole time, staring at her wrist where Vlodimir's hand clings for dear life. A hero...he wanted to be her hero?

 _"She is not a stray puppy, Vlodimir,"_ his mother had said, her eyes soft when she looked at Aislin. _"_ _Did you get seperated from your parents, sweetheart?"_

Aislin only remembers her mother, and it had been a handful of years since she had seen her. She only remembers the city, _which_ city, however, was the problem. She would need more than cobblestone alleys and the cold touch of her mothers hand in her own.

And Aislin had cried for her, desperation, her mind conjuring pleasing images of her mother appearing and being the one that saved her. Not Vlodimir, not this boy with big, hopeful and desperate eyes because he just _had_ to save a damsel in distress.

_Chivalrous._

_"Perhaps the keepers could take her in,"_ Vlodimir's father had spoke up by then, his face so serious. 

Aislin had often wondered in the days after that, what would have happened if Vlodimir had not saved her? Of course, she would most likely be _dead_ , but if she had managed to get away in the first place? What then? Would she have ever run into this boy, a boy that saved her life and seemed to think nothing of it, like anyone would do the same. Did he not know how _unique_ that line of thought was? Aislin knew, even at that young age, she had known no one else would have come to her rescue. 

Perhaps, not even her mother.

* * *

"Young Vlodimir is always looking for someone ta rescue," the kind woman named Alma says with a smile on her face.

Aislin sits on the chair Alma has provided, her toes just almost brushing the wooden floorboards. The woman was introduced as her surrogate mother, the widow of the von Everec family groundskeeper. Aislin did not mind her so far, watching her clean the scrapes and cuts on her skin so gently, even though the solution she uses burns. But Aislins eyes wondered back to the window, to the estate that towered over the small shack she was in now.

Vlodimir was in there, and she wanted to see him, to talk to him, but his parents had said it was late and he had to come home.

"We'll get you some water heated up," Alma says before groaning her way to her feet. "I know ya must've been so cold out there."

"It wasn't too cold." A lie, the mud and the wind were cold, a hint of the frost to come.

"Lady von Everec told me what those children were doin' ." Alma looked over at Aislin with a sympathetic look. "Well, what _Vlodimir_ had seen, anyway. Twas fate he was born so adventurous, he never would've found ya."

Aislin chewed on her lip a little, still able to feel the pressure of his hand in hers, the way he pulled her along so desperately. 

"Will I see him again?" Aislin looks up from her dirty toes, curling them tightly. 

Alma gives her a small smile. "They live right up the road, 'm sure you'll see 'im."

* * *

Matter of fact, Aislin doesn't see Vlodimir again for three full moons.

It seems like eternity.

She had adjusted by then, Alma teaching her the things they were to be in charge of such as going into the village nearby for errands, or cleaning the von Everec crypt of cobwebs and dust. Aislin doesn't mind this slow life, it is routine and she can fall into it easily; Alma says she is happy to have a young one to help, it is easier on her aging body. Alma is nice, cleaning up Aislin when she gets a scrape, sitting at her bedside until she falls asleep. . .all of the things her mother did. It makes Aislin homesick at first, but Alma makes her worries ans doubts easier.

Despite her growing comfort, her ability to fall more and more into routine, she makes fleeting glances to the big front doors of the estate that towered over her. Aislin wonders how she keeps missing him, finds herself thinking he had no plans to come and see her again in the first place. She had the same thought when she first realized he was a noble, knowing that was a one time interaction. There is no way to quell _those_ worries, even when Alma tells her its natural: Vlodimir had literally _saved her life_.

Then, one night, he's outside her window.

He wakes her up, that same goofy smile on his face when she sneaks out of the house. Her heart is racing when she rounds the corner, but stops in its pace when she realizes Vlodimir is not alone. Behind him stands an older boy, _still a boy_ , with deep red hair and this intimidating stance. Vlodimir is whispering to him quickly, almost jumping up and down with excitement, and for a moment the other boy smiles softly at Vlodimir. 

Aislin feels her stomach knot up a little.

"There you are!" Vlodimir closes the space between them and takes Aislin by the hand once again. "Come on, lets get out of here."

Aislin doesn't question it, and neither does the other boy, he just follows along behind them. Vlodimir begins to babble the further they get away from home, towards the fields edge where the cover of trees awaited. Clouds are rolling around in the sky, making the moonlight obscure and rare in their path; the wind lifts her dress over her knees. It is the perfect night to see him again, even if Vlodimir had brought a stranger along.

"I'm sorry I have not come and checked on you," Vlodimir says when they stop and he lets her hand go. "We have had schooling and such, so mother and father would not let us have any free time."

Aislin shakes her head, giving him a soft smile. "Its okay." Her stomach still struggled to undo the knots from waiting. "I-I needed to adjust on my own anyway."

Vlodimir's smile grew into a grin. "Glad you're finally talking!"

"Quiet, Vlodimir," the other boy finally spoke, both Aislin and Vlodimir looked over at him.

Vlodimir laughed, scratching at the back of his head. "Sorry, I got excited. I didn't even introduce you two properly!" Vlodimir stepped around Aislin and clasped a hand onto the other boys shoulder. "This is my older brother, Olgierd von Everec."

Aislin looked up at him, this older brother, and he was smiling. "Vlodimir has not stopped talking about you, Aislin." He bowed his head slightly to her.

She felt herself blushing and bowed her head a little in return. "Its a pleasure."

Vlodimir is animated once more, taking up both of Aislins hands in his own, spinning her around a little. "Its grand! I was worried mother and father would not allow you to come back with us."

"Especially father," Olgieed commented, steadying Aislin with a hand on the shoulder when Vlodimir suddenly let her go. "Vlodimir, calm down, she is not a rag doll." He let her go, but his touch still lingered on her. "I apologize for him, he gets over excited sometimes."

Aislim actually giggled at that. "I...I haven't had a friend before so...its just fine."

Vlodimir frowned at her. "You've never had a friend? That sounds impossible."

Aislin hesitates, looking down at her dirty toes in the grass; why was she so self-conscious all of a sudden? "I had been in that village for so long...people knew about..." Aislin looked up, wanting to cry. "All of the children were like those that tried to burn me."

Both Vlodimir and Olgierd gave her that look, the same one their mother had given her, so full of sadness and empathy. But Olgierd...Olgierd seemed different, his gaze was level and resigned as well, as though he had already decided something in his mind.

Vlodimir was talking again before Aislin could focus on his older brother anymore, taking her hand in his, reminding her of that _warmth_ once again. She squeezed his hand as he dragged her along, smiling when he did the same at her.

* * *

He finds her a few days later, Vlodimir does, and she hurts so bad. 

"Aislin, wh-what happened?" His hands hover around her, eyes full of panic as he just watches her leaning against the tree. "I'm going to get Alma - "

" _No!_ " Aislin reaches out to grab him, but he catches her instead. "No please, don't let her see me yet..."

Vlodimir stares at Aislin like she's crazy, and she probably did sound crazy, but she couldn't let Alma see her like this. She had already patched her up once...Aislin didn't want this to be routine, she didn't want to upset her.

Vlodimir was silent for a moment and then groaned, easing Aislin down so she could sit up against the tree. "I'll be back."

"Vlodimir please -"

But he was already gone, leaving her hand lingering in the air. Eventually her arm trembled terribly and Aislin let it drop with a heavy sigh, looking up at the sky.

 _It was my fault_ , he hadn't let her say. It was her fault, because a pair of village kids had seen her, she was being careless with her abilities and...she should have been more careful. Aislin hung her head and bit her trembling lip, squeezing her eyes shut when a tear had already slipped down her right cheek; the cut across it stung. Aislin was dreading the wait, praying that he was not getting Alma, or worse - his parents. What if they were so upset about this, they told her to _leave_? That they didn't need the trouble? Only Vlodimir and Olgierd knew about Aislin's abilites, though she had not told them fully what she knew she was capable of, she hoped they had not told anyone else.

She hoped.

Aislin heard leaves crunching closer and closer to her and she sniffled, looking up in time to see Vlodimir, with Olgierd in tow. He had an eyebrow arched while Vlodimir was pouting with his cheeks puffed out; he stood to Aislin's left, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You shouldn't have -"

"What happened?" Olgierd crossed his arms as he stood over her.

Aislin's eyes flickered between both of them, the way their body language mirrored each others, but where Vlodimir pouted and huffed, crouching down beside Aislin and pulling something from his pocket, Olgierd remained as steady as stone.

Aislin stared up at him, more focused on his demanding expression than the wet cloth Vlodimir was cleaning her face with. "I - I...I got careless." She shook her head. "I was practicing and other kids saw me..."

"Practicing what?" Vlodimir lowered the cloth, his brow furrowed and Aislin knew _surely_ he had been curious as to why those children chose to call her a witch. "You never fully told me why those other kids attacked you either. Just because they _knew?_ What exactly can you do, Aislin?'

Aislin shook her head. "I don't know...I don't know what it is.

"Explain it."

"I wouldn't know how -"

"Try us," Olgierd interrupted her, crouching down with a curious look on his face.

Aislin looked between them, the von Everec boys, and suddenly felt as though she were drowning, with no way out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will add a reassuring note here saying that the chapters will get gradually longer as we get to the end of this little fic.

_We met in grief  
_ _and were held together by its mud._

* * *

She shakes like a baby bird.

Her voice still seems to ring in the room, his name on her tongue and her big eyes reflecting him in detail when he gets close.

_He remembers her._

"I'm sorry...but have we met?"

She almost looks _hurt_ by his words, and while it strikes a chord in Olgierd, he says nothing more. He waits patiently for more words from her, but she just stares at him and trembles. Olgierd arches an eyebrow at her, taking a closer step, and she jumps back from him, tumbling onto the steps behind her. It pulls a small yelp from her lips, a tear to her eye that was faint in the candlelight.

"Are you not the one that cares for my family crypt?" Her lips tremble this time. "Speak now, you're testing my patience."

"Y-You don't..." her brow furrowed deeper as she spoke. "Olgierd, you don't remember me?"

Without hesitation, he chuckles. "I'm afraid not, dear." She can tell that his patience is indeed thin. "Now, are you the one that still tends the tombs? I know the previous woman died some time ago."

She bit the inside of her cheek, eyes flickering around for a moment before she dares to lift a hand, a plea for assistance. Olgierd takes her hand, a curious look on his face as he lifts her to unsteady feet, feeling how clammy her hands were. Why was she so nervous? She had been nervous since she had entered the tomb, her frantic steps down to meet him so telling. What was she so afraid of?

"Yes...Yes, I take care of the grounds, still," she mumbles, letting go of his hand to dust off the hem of her dress. "Alma died nearly three years ago, I stay in her stead." Her eyes lingered over his shoulder. "It was her wish." 

Olgierd ignored the lie, the starry look in her eyes before she looked back to him. "Well, I must thank you. Alma was a good woman, always tended to Vlodimir with great care."

"I am the one that has _always_ tended Vlodimir's grave," her words had bite.

He remembered her.

Olgierds mouth was so dry, it was hard to swallow. Her eyes are looking down, but he sees the way her fingers clench into her palms, tremble in her restraint. 

He remembered her playing in the garden.

"I know you," her chin lifts when he speaks, the pressure of her eyes on him quite jarring. 

He remembers her clinging to his brothers coat when the other children bullied her, and then...

* * *

Aislin stays in the crypt when Olgierd leaves, unmoving as she listens to him barking orders at his men, and then the fading thud of their horses riding away. She stays and stares at Vlodimir's grave, with its fresh bottle of wine and the streak of Olgierd's fingerprints through the dust on the saber.

She cries then, sinking back against the wall beside the steps, where Olgierd had cornered her. She couldn't breathe for a moment, dry heaving when the tears ran dry; she clenched her skirt, knuckles white as tears wet her hot cheeks. Aislin hated the way she sounded, her crying echoed back to her from the tomb walls. She sounded _pathetic_ , she couldn't even hold it together for a _minute_ after he was gone? She even showed how shaken up she was right in front of him, and that's _not_ what she wanted.

Aislin leaves the crypt eventually, waiting through the hiccups that followed the tears. The sun was halfway across the sky by now, and Aislin felt smothered by its heat. She stopped on the path beside her home, staring over at where Sashi was tethered to the lampost beside Aislin's front door.

"Why?" She ignored her horse for now, blindly searching for her tossed basket. "Why _now_?" 

Aislin knew she would get no answer, it didn't take too much thought to come to that conclusion. Because this was a _one time thing_. Aislin hadn't seen Olgierd since Vlodimir's funeral, on the arm of Iris Bilewitz. She had known it was him leaving the wine, the source of melted candles, with wax still warm and squishy, she just had not expected to _see_ him. 

All this time, she had thought he was avoiding her, but it was just bad timing.

"Bad timing," Aislin murmured and stopped, frowning at her basket and the scattered goods on the side of the road. " _Bad timing_."

* * *

Sometimes, people came to Aislin for help.

She doesn't know how it got out, and she will admit that at first, the news _terrified_ her. Aislin had remembered every bit of torture during her childhood, the rope burns and the bloody noses, the way the children pulled her hair when they found out. Before Vlodimir had found her, Aislin had been keeping to the edge of that old village, driven away because they had _all_ learned of her powers.

But these people wanted her to _help_ them, and as she did before, Aislin got used to this and has come to be eager to help simple people outmatched by the supernatural. 

When the Witcher shows up, however, Aislin is cautious. 

She had sensed him the previous day, poking around the village and asking questions about the _crypt_. Aislin was sure he knew she had been following him in town, but he was quiet when she welcomed him inside. His eyes flickered around the room, but not as a mirror of Aislin's own nervous habit, but _searching_ for something.

He knows what she is before she even explains. "A dreamer," this one has a gruff voice. "I know what you do, but the villagers say you knew the von Everecs, their _sons_ particularly."

Aislin cleared her throat, her hands tightening in her lap where she sat in her chair by the window. "Should I call you Geralt, or simply Witcher?" 

"Whatever you want." 

Aislin sighed, looking out to the estate lingering over the hill. "I was Vlodimir's friend," her voice was sad when she spoke. "He and Olgierd were close, so they were a package deal sometimes." Aislin looked back over to the Witcher. "What are you looking for?"

Geralt grunted, shifting his weight from one foot to another. "I'll spare ya the details, but Olgierd von Everec has me doing _favors_ for him. I was asking around town about the crypt, didn't expect to get directed to a dreamer still watching over a crumbling estate."

Aislin pursed her lips slightly. "Olgierd still owns the land, so someone still needs to take care of the crypt at least."

"Funny, how Olgierd didn't mention you."

There was no reason to, but Aislin took those words personally. "Olgierd and I...have not spoken since not too long after Vlodimir's funeral." 

Aislin wondered what she should say to the Witcher, what Olgierd didn't want him to know, like _Iris_. Alma was the one that told her about Witchers, the dying breed of monster slayers, but Aislin had never encountered one herself. Aislin was a dreamer, she knew there was nothing to fear from this man, but one could never be _too_ cautious.

Especially with the von Everec's were involved.

"But you didn't come here to talk about my _relationship_ with the von Everec brothers." Aislin stood from her chair and proceeded to light the candles in her home; it was getting late. 

Geralt stepped out of her path to the long table behind him. "I was actually thinking that you could help me with Olgierd's first wish."

Aislin gripped the edge of the table, leaning into it. "What is this _wish_?" 

The Witcher, _Geralt_ , hummed and stepped over to the window she had been looking out of. True, one could hardly see the estate from inside of her home, but Aislin was sure he saw the mangled path she had cut through the bushes to give her a view of the path up to the crypt.

"To show Vlodimir the time of his life."

Aislin had looked up when Geralt had looked over to her, his words sounding so loud because of the absence of wind outside. Aislin let go of the table and fully turned to Geralt, her fingers flexing at her sides.

"Wh-What?" Her voice cracked, but Aislin still stared at Geralt. "Is this some sick joke?"

Geralt crossed his arms over his chest again. "That's what Olgierd told me to do, I was given some concoction to summon the ghost." He reached into a small pouch on his belt and produced a corked vial. "Don't usually like to involve civilians, but your presence could keep angrier spirits away."

Aislin frowned. "How?" She couldn't keep her eyes off of that vial, sure that it was _blood_ that sloshed around inside of it. "Its not like I have powers like that, I'm just a dreamer, and a novice at that."

Geralt shook his head and put the vial away. "You've tended the tombs since you were a girl, right?" At the look she gave him, Geralt explained. "The villagers."

Aislin nodded slowly and clasped her hands together in front of her. "You think they would see you with me and not get upset that a stranger was breaking into the tomb...I understand." 

"That's what I'm hoping for." Geralt walked to the front door and opened it, Aislin following him. "I would really rather _not_ to put grumpy ghost's through the ringer."

The moon was big and fat in the clouds above them outside, shining so brightly, it lit the land for as far as Aislin's eyes could see. She closed her eyes and lifted her face up to the wind, feeling the chills spread across her skin; it started at her nose, ended just before her toes. When she opened her eyes, Aislin saw Geralt trying to tug his own horse away from hers, but the horses were too caught up in sniffing each others faces.

Aislin chuckled as she approached. "Seems they like each other," she reached up and grabbed Geralt's hand to pull it from the reigns. "Leave them." He looked at her, annoyed. "You still want my help, yes?"

It was a long held breath, but finally Geralt released what he had inhaled and nodded. "Yeah, like I said, I would rather not involve civilians -"

"- but grumpy ghosts," Aislin finished his sentence and nodded. "I got it." She gestured to the path that curved around the left side of her home. "I must clean it first, you can join me."

It was a long walk up to the crypt, the shade of the trees making their path dark. All the while, Aislin told Geralt of Vlodimir, _to inform him_ was all, of course.

"He was the _dashing_ rogue, Olgierd's younger brother," Aislin chuckled at her own words, thinking on fond memories. "He wanted to be like Olgierd, but he was far more wild. While Olgierd studied diligently, Vlodimir slacked off and snuck out of the house to come and see me."

Aislin paused and dug around in the pocket of her apron for a key to the padlock. She wrapped the chain arouns her arm and held open the door for the Witcher.

"Bandits?" He questioned as he side stepped her, watching her lock the gate again.

Aislin nodded somberly, tucking the key away and once again taking the lead. "Many things have been taken from outside of the actual home, but the crypt remains untouched. I make sure of that."

"You take your duty seriously," Geralt mumbled as he observed the steep drop off to his left, the mangled weeds breaking through the laid stone of the path. 

Aislin nodded again. "I..." She stopped halfway up the steps, staring at her shadow that played in the light given off by the lit briezers. "The von Everec's gave me a home when I was a child." She started walking again, this time _slower_ , eyes fixated on the bars draped in vines ahead. "I was entrusted to the widow of their former groundskeeper, and basically took over his duties working alongside his wife, Alma."

"She dies, you take over completely."

"Right."

Aislin led him down into the crypt, pausing as she watched Geralt light one of the candles that had gone out along the stairwell. She nodded, conveying her thanks, and they finally reached the central chamber. Geralt stepped out from behind her once they were inside, eyes arching over the ceiling, lingering on each seperate grave.

"This isn't just a crypt..." He muttered, looking over at Aislin as she procured her broom and set to work sweeping up the dust that had blown in through the week. "Its a full-blown _mosoleum_."

Aislin paused to nod, leaning onto her broom. "Olgierd told me, when we were children, that the von Everec's were a large clan." Aislin hummed and used a makeshift pan to collect the pile of dirt and dust she had gathered. "But bloodlines die out, have to put the dead somewhere, why not the same place?"

Geralt nodded and walked over to the central brazier. "I assume this is to commune with them?"

"Yes, but I have never used it." She never had the courage. "I need to get the right herbs to cleanse the room and -"

"Already have them, and a censer." Aislin hadn't noticed it hanging on his hip, that must have been what he was doing with his horse. At the look she gave him, Geralt already knew her question. "I have a friend at the college in Oxenfurt, she kind of stole it for me. Anyway, I can call for him, you can purify the room."

Aislin's hands trembled as she took the censer from him. "Will I be able to see him?" Her voice was low, eyes staring down at the device in her hands. 

Geralt stared down at Aislin, arching an eyebrow at her and making an uncomfortable noise in his throat. "We'll see, just cleanse the room and let's try."

Aislin looked up and sighed, nodding as she walked away to find a candle. As she lit the incense and locked them into the censer, Geralt began his chanting of fire and blood, friend but not foe. Aislin felt a weight in the air, knowing it was just her that was feeling it. Aislin did not want to be here, but when she had accepted her part in his plan, she hadn't been able to _stop herself_.

Geralt probably thought that Aislins question had meant she _wanted_ to see Vlodimir, when the truth was...

The thought made her want to _run away._

"Time to start the ritual," Geralt muttered when Aislin returned and the rooms floor was thick with white smoke. 

Aislin took a deep breath and watched Geralt light the fire, flames bursting to life in a flurry of green sparks and casted light. Aislin was nervous the longer Geralt droned on, feeling her heart racing and her palms beginning to sweat _just_ like they did when Olgierd had been here.

Aislin didn't want to be here.

But maybe, just maybe...

Geralt had stopped talking, and Aislin came to attention, following the direction he had turned his head, narrowed his eyes - he was glaring at _Vlodimir's_ tomb.

"Who are you?" Geralt was defensive as he spoke, his expression relaxing after a moment. "Vlodimir von Everec."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Believe it or not, I run around like a mad woman in Witcher to make sure I have my settings just right. The only thing changed is the family that lives in the in-game house are replaced with Aislin. 
> 
> I'm really putting so much into this because this story means alot to me for some reason. I hope people are enjoying reading this as much as I am writing this ❤


	4. Chapter 4

_Took crowns made of bones  
_ _put them on each others heads._

* * *

"Good idea bringing her along," the ghost said, a smile on his face as he watched Aislin, the dreamer, stare right at Vlodimir. "But she can't see me still, it's a shame."

Geralt looked over at Aislin, saw how nervous she was and wondered _why_ exactly what she so nervous about Vlodimir? He looked back to the ghost of the von Everec rogue, not seeing a monster, so what was it that seemed to scare her so much? She had been talking about him so loosely earlier, it was an odd shift in demeanor.

Vlodimir leaned against the brazier in the center of the room, and Geralt took a small step back while Aislin stayed. "Now tell me how you came into Olgierd's blood." There was a threatening tone to Vlodimir's tone when he looked back to Geralt. "If you hurt him, I fear I shall have to kill you." He stepped closer to Geralt, eyes narrowed with a promise to his threat.

"Got it from a mutual acquaintance of mine and Olgierd's," Geralt paused. "I'm here on important business."

Vlodomir scoffed and leaned back against the central brazier again, smirking at Geralt. "I'm a swiving _corpse_. With no interest in important matters - yours _or_ any other bugger's." He shook his head and looked over to Aislin, who looked so lost. "The sole thing I miss is _feasting_ , corporal diversions, so to speak, but alas..."

"Mentioned you liked to enjoy yourself, Olgierd sent me."

Vlodimir's expression lit up then. "How is that old rogue?!" He shook his head and smiled. "Ehh, what I wouldn't give to ride at his side again..."

Geralt grunted. "No chance of that happening. Could experience something else, though. Something a corpse _should_ find interesting."

Vlodimir seemed to grow impatient. "Interesting? Out with it - what do you have in mind?"

"Listen," Geralt grumbled. "Olgierd gave me a job. Odd as it may sound, I need to show you the time of your life."

"Is that so?" Vlodimir grinned proudly, placing his hands on his hips. "Now that, _sir_ , is a brother." Vlodimir dropped his hands and took a few steps closer. "I've been dead for _years_ , yet he still looks after me, after my _spirits_. How much time do we have?"

Geralt shrugged. "Think one night should do the trick."

"Splendid! Wait just a moment while I hoist my saber and -" Vlodimir disappeared and reappeared in front of his tomb, his hand swiping right through the sabers hilt. "What the blistering devils?!"

Geralt snorted. "You're a ghost. Can't grab things."

As if they were thinking the same thing, Aislin and Vlodimir opened their mouths to speak, though Aislin beat him. "Wait, Geralt you..." Both Vlodimir and the Witcher turned to look at her. "You didn't say how you planned on showing him the time of his life, he would need a body...I know Vlodimir wouldn't settle for anything but commanding his fun."

Vlodimir had appeared beside her, and she was completely unaware. "All these years, and this one _still_ knows me." He reached up, forgetting yet again that he couldn't touch anything, and frowned as his hand passed through her ear. "She is right, I will go _nowhere_." 

Vlodimir straightened up and approached Geralt, Aislin feeling the chill and rubbing at her arms to gain friction. Geralt watched the way Vlodimir scrunched up his nose in annoyance and already felt the headache to come. Geralt didn't know why he thought this would be _easy_. Nothing had been easy since he had run into Gaunter O'Dimm.

"You're to see I enjoy myself, correct? Well, then see to a way to make it _possible_."

Geralt glared at the ghost in front of him, sighing and side stepping him to get to Aislin. "Any ideas on how to satisfy him?"

Aislin froze for a moment and looked up at Geralt, then she looked around the room. "I uh..." She frowned. "Nothing _you're_ going to like."

"Finding someone for him to possess? Because I thought of that."

Again, before Vlodimir could have his word, Aislin beat him to it. "He won't take just _any_ body, even if he agrees." Aislin shook her head with that same deep frown.

Vlodimir was close, behind Geralt. "I told you, she still knows me so well."

Geralt felt the pieces click together. "Oh no, that is _not_ happening."

Vlodimir chuckled. "Oh yes it is."

When the force hit Geralt, there was no stopping his tumbling forward into Aislin. He felt sick, head spinning as he watched through tunnel vision as Aislin slowly lost consciousness before him.

* * *

When they were children, it was always _Vlodimir_.

Aislin had never managed to see past him, always at his back, clinging to his hand - _right from the beginning._ Always walking in his footsteps, too afraid to stray far because of those _what ifs_ that plagued her.

But Olgierd was there before Aislin knew it, tracing her own steps and following not too far behind.

_Aislin could hardly remember a time when it wasn't the three of them._

Whether it was hiding in the windmill watching the brothers share a bottle of moonshine, or sneaking off in the middle of a rainy nights to catch frogs in the stream near home, they were always together

Then, eventually, it became just the two of them, Aislin and Olgierd. 

The manor had become quiet, silenced by grief and mourning, in the wake of Vlodimir's death. Aislin didn't need for Olgierd to tell her the next morning, she had _dreamt_ of it, and Olgierd had to know with the tears still wet on her cheeks when he had woken her. She had dreamt of his pain, and the look on Olgierd's face when he found his little brother - it was as tangible as if she had been there.

That was why she had wanted to leave.

"You shouldn't leave, child." Alma was sniffling, but Aislin knew she was right, and still she continued to neatly arrange her belongings into a satchel. "This is still your home." 

But, there was no joy left in this place with Vlodimir gone. Iris had begun to come to Aislin, saying Olgierd was changing and it was true - Aisling had not seen much of Olgierd since the funeral. What she had seen was him standing on a balcony, ignoring her when she called his name, staring off into nothing. Vlodimir's death couldn't be harder on anyone than the two of them, but it had turned Olgierd into someone else. He was a complete stranger now, and Aislin had no idea how to stop the ocean forming between them.

"I'm sorry Alma," Aislin's voice had sounded so sad, her shaky legs lowering her to the edge of her bed. "I-I just..." She lowered her face into her hands, but she couldn't cry anymore. "I can't believe he's gone."

"Me either, child." Alma sat beside Aislin, wrapping a comforting arm around the trembling girls shoulders. "Me either..."

Aislin shook her head and licked the tear that had made it to her top lip. "Olgierd has changed...everything seems so _dark_ ," her voice cracked at the end. "And I can't stop seeing his _face_ , I see it all the time and it hurts."

"Dear girl, you were born with a power that may seem like a burden." Oh wise Alma. "But you will get through this, you _must_ , because Olgierd needs you."

Aislin had looked up then, looking into the tired, pale blue eyes of the woman she would proudly call her mother. "He has shut me out, Alma. He isn't the same boy I grew up with."

Alma frowned, then gave Aislin a small smile and pulled her close against, which brought Aislin back to her current grief and she cried again. This time, though, she cried for both her loss of Vlodimir _and_ Olgierd.

* * *

When Aislin opens her eyes, she is confused as to how she got into her bed. She lays there for a long time, slowly blinking at the ceiling, until she manages to piece together what had happened and it was then she felt the pain in the back of her head. Geralt had been arguing with Vlodimir, because Aislin had told him what she _knew_ Vlodimir would be like about possession, and then she had hit the floor.

As she winced, she heard Geralt's gruff voice from the other side of the room. "Didn't expect Vlodimir to rush me like that," he said with a heavy sigh. "Knocked me into you, and you went down hard."

Aislin gave a small grunt as she pushed herself up in bed. "How long? How did I get here?"

Geralt leaned back in the chair he was sitting in, making the old wood creak. "I woke up before you, possessed by Vlodimir." He shook his head, a disgusted look on his face. "He carried you back here and disappeared. That was maybe...two or three hours ago, if I had to guess."

Aislin rubbed the heel of her hand against her forehead, brushing her bangs out of her eyes. It was still night, but the moon was gone and the night seemed full of terrors from her position on the bed. Sashi was unusually calm, head resting gently on the railing of the fence and not even the bugs could be heard, just the faint whisper of the wind.

"I thought he would stay," she finally spoke, folding her hands in her lap. "I...I guess I had expectations."

"Like what?" Aislin looked over at Geralt when he asked her his question, brow furrowed. "He was saying things."

Aislin sighed, shaking her head and pulling the blanket away from her legs. "He has until midnight, why are you still here?"

Geralt watched her stumble when she got out of bed. "Vlodimir insisted I stay and make sure you were okay," he sounded offended. "Like I was just going to leave you after you hit your head like that."

Aislin chuckled at his indignant tone, leaving the bedroom and soon hearing Geralt get to his feet and follow her. The wind was as strong as it had been when they went into the tomb, lifting Aislins messy braid off of her shoulder a bit. The clouds were moving sluggishly across the sky, obscuring the moons light so the darkness seemed to be encroaching on her little hut. Aislin was grateful for the cloak of night, unsure how she would be able to handle the day time with all that had happened; the moon always swallowed her in a comforting embrace.

Aislin was surprised at Geralt's patience as she walked over to the horses, soaking in the feel of the night time. "He's here," she mumbled when Sashi snickered, saw the way the horse twitched. "Isn't he?"

Geralt grumbled. "Yeah."

Aislin gripped the railing in front if her tightly. "All this time..." She sighed. "I still can't talk to him...I don't have the courage."

Geralt didn't say anything, but Aislin didn't care whether he did or not, she turned and walked past him. When she shut the door behind her, Aislin finally let out the breath she had been holding while she walked and locked the latch on her door.

No, Aislin wasn't ready if Vlodimir decided to possess Geralt and speak to her, she wouldn't stand a chance.

* * *

Aislin doesn't sleep once Geralt leaves, she instead walks back up to the crypt, but she stops halfway up when she saw the door already had the chain wrapped around it. 

"Vlodimir." Aislin sighs, knowing that Geralt, even with the short time she was exposed to him, wouldn't have even thought about it. 

When she gets back home, she slumps down onto the steps of her porch and stares up at the sky. Aislin didn't understand _why_ she had been so shaken by the experience, she had thought about getting a chance to speak to him again more than once. Aislin just had the chance, and it had felt like she couldn't _breathe_ from the moment Geralt had announced Vlodimir's presence.

It was nothing like the moments she had imagined.

The hours following Geralt's departure were tense for Aislin, the frazzled woman trying to keep her hands busy while her mind went _wild_.

She had a steadily growing feeling that something wasn't right, and Aislin had always trusted her instincts. But the question was, what was making her so uneasy? It couldn't be _just_ the experience with Vlodimir, it was something else, something _bigger_. Perhaps it really was just her nerves getting to her, having been shaken so recently by Olgierd and then the Witcher comes to summon Vlodimir? 

Aislin cursed when there was a knock at the door, the clay pot in her hands tumbling to the floor where it shattered. She glared at the door, then the mess, and dusted her hands off on her apron before shuffling around her ruined pot. 

Aislin kept seven locks on the front door, a tedious task undoing them, but they provided comfort. She could hear an impatient sigh from the other side of the door, and her fingers froze on the final lock. Aislin knew that sigh, the subtle tap of his foot on the boards of the front porch because he never understood how Aislin had talked Alma into those stupid locks.

Olgierd had composed himself by the time Aislin opened the door. He was minus his band of men and women, staring down at Aislin with this mildly suprised look on his face

He was the one at _her_ door...

"Olgierd..." Aislin mumbled, feeling her hands tremble when the sun turned him into a silhouette against its background. "What are you doing here?"

His expression was so serious, and so sad at the same time. Aislin stumbled back into her hut as Olgierd stepped forward, her eyes on the back of his head while he shut the door.

"I will never understand why you keep those locks." He turned back to Aislin. "I believe I owe you an apology."


	5. Chapter 5

_We loved each other with  
_ _fragments of ourselves we thought were dead._

* * *

"Suprised you didn't possess me back there, with the dreamer."

Geralt could feel the ghostly stare from Vlodimir von Everec, but he still leaned onto the railing and watched the wedding guests mingling around the village. Though he has not been in direct control for most of the wedding, Geralt could admit he had _some_ sort of fun; he would grumble for days about the mud that was now clinging to his clothes, though. No natter what, though, Geralt was thankful for the growing silence as villagers dragged each other from the barn, wrapped up their conversations and parted ways for the night.

"Her name is Aislin," Vlodimir corrected Geralt, arms crossed over his chest. "And I heard what she said..." He dropped his arms to his sides, sighing heavily. "I will not force her to talk to me if she does not wish to. She knows this."

"Then why did she run away, huh?" Geralt turned around to face Vlodimir's ghost, seeing his eyes linger on the two women with flushed cheeks that were stumbling from the barn. "Vlodimir, I asked you a question."

The aforementiomed ghost glared at Geralt, then sighed yet again and shook his head. "Things are...very different, than when I was alive."

"Obviously." Geralt had listened to Aislin, saw that sad look on her face - the melancholy and the overwhelming _grief_ of losing her childhood so abruptly. 

"Shut it," Vlodimir snapped, defensive. "With Aislin and Olgierd, neither of them...they seem like _shells_ of their former selves."

"Don't mean to pry..." Geralt waved a hand at Shani when he saw her looking for him, earning a quizzical look from her. 

Vlodimir turned to watch Shani walk back into the barn, surprising Geralt genuinely when he said nothing about her. "No, no...amidst my fun, it seems I have forgotten about something important." He looked back to Geralt. "There is a request I have of you, a favor that only requires you to do one, simple thing."

Geralt was wary, thinking of the predicament he already found himself in that involved too many _favors_. But Vlodimir had been nothing but honest and open with Geralt, and no matter what, he always ended up being a _sucker_ for monsters.

"What is it?" He crossed his arms over his chest, letting Vlodimir know he had his full attention. "And it _better_ not bite me in the ass."

Vlodimir chuckled, but it was dry and lacked his mirth from earlier. "Olgierd visits my grave sometimes...he gets drunk, he says things and does not know that I indeed hear him." He wrung his hands together in front of himself for a brief moment. "Most of the time...he talks about the old days, mostly before Aislin."

"And that's... _strange_ , to you?"

Vlodimir gave him a scolding look, Geralt had seen it _plenty_ when he interrupted Vesemir, more than once, during lessons. "Let me finish," Vlodimir snapped, huffing softly beneath his breath. " _That_ is not what is strange, what _is_ however..." As he trailed off, Vlodimir clenched his fists tightly at his sides. "As more time passes...he drowns himself in his offering wine, rambles incoherently about his profound grief and..." Vlodomir shook his head. "Something is not right with my brother."

"And the dreamer? How is she different?"

Geralt didn't _know_ Aislin, hardly knew Olgierd for that matter, but Vlodimir knew nearly everything about these two mysterious figures in the center of this contract Geralt had found himself in. Olgierd was the main focus, that was clear, but then there was this unexpected dreamer tending to Vlodimirs grave and things had gotten stranger. There were obviously things Aislin was hiding, things Geralt had a feeling were vital to figuring out just what on _Earth_ was going on with Olgierd von Everec and Gaunter O'Dimm.

Vlodimir von Everec could possibly shed light on these things.

The heavy, _heavy_ sigh Vlodimir gave told Geralt alot more than the dead man probably thought it did. "I saved Aislin when we were just children, mother and father has stopped in this village South of the bog to resupply when I wandered off."

He found a seat on the crates stacked in front of Geralt; the Witcher was grareful for the seclusion of their spot, people would probably call guards saying the mutant had snapped.

"She was lost in the bog?"

Vlodimir shook his head. "No, no I found her in the forest outside of the village." He sighed again, sounding weary at the memory. "The village children had tied her to a post, calling her a witch and looking for kindling...I cut her down and we escaped back to my mother and father."

"And you brought her home? Like a lost puppy?" 

Vlodimir chuckled and smiled a little at Geralt, _amused_ with the Witcher and his outbursts sometimes. But Geralt would always be such a _bore_ , with his stern face and even more stern posture as he stares down at Vlodimir.

"My mother said the exact same thing," Vlodimir admitted. "But my father thought of Alma, the groundskeepers widow. She had lost both her husband and son when bandits tried to break into the estate. _She_ adopted Aislin, treated her as if she were her own...I know she still has not gotten over Almas death." Vlodimir looked up to the sky. "That could not be the reason though, not for everything that I have seen."

Geralt felt _uncomfortable_ listening to Vlodimir talk about his dreamer, that solemn look on his ghostly features. He had not seen such a sad expression many times, thinking about the most recent: the Bloody Baron, when Geralt had described what the horror of a botchling was. The grief and _regret_ that had flashed over this mans face, realizing just what he had done.

 _"Bloody Hell...my own_ child _. I did this to ma own flesh 'n blood!"_

"I know this girl, Geralt. Something is wrong, she was never the most excitable girl, but she smiled all the time." There was that sad look again. "I have not seen her smile genuinely since I was alive." There was a surprisingly serious expression on Vlodimirs face next. "For the first time in years, I see her and Olgierd interact and she ends up in tears on the floor after his departure."

"Did he hurt her?" Geralt dropped his arms to his sides again, arching an eyebrow. 

"No, no nothing of the sort." Vlodimir waves a hand in the air. "I had thought... _foolishly_ I thought Aislin and Olgierd would persevere still in my absence, but... Olgierd, it seems, does not _remember_ Aislin."

Interesting.

"Seems impossible, according to you and Aislin, the three of you have been close since you were very young. Hard bond to forget about, even with years separating them."

Then again, Olgierd hadn't mentioned Aislin once; if he had forgotten her, it would explain why he sent Geralt to the village and not straight to her. Living right next to each other from a young age, and obviously spending a great deal of time running around together, and he just _forgets_ her?

"Trust me, Witcher, there is something severely wrong here and I need you to -"

"Is Vlodimir's ghost gone?" Shani asked as she approached, stopping just to the aforementioned mans left.

"Still here, we were talking about something." Geralt looked over to Vlodimir. "Get to it, what is it you need? You don't have much time."

At Vlodimir's exasperated look, Geralt silently agreed that maybe still keeping with that whole _time limit_ thing was unecessary. But he refused to give the ghost any slack, keeping the pressure up would get him his answers he needed _faster_. Even if Vlodimir wasn't as bad as Geralt expected, he would never trust ghosts and their desire to be among the living once again.

Vlodimir opened his mouth to speak again, but a new voice came in, one that made Geralt grind his teeth together. "Vlodimir von Everec - go back whence you came." All eyes fell on Gaunter O'Dimm, who had his back to them. " _Please_."

Vlodimir glared at the man, mirroring Geralts look of utter distaste. His colorful garments and the flower wreath atop his head betrayed the threatening tone in his pleasantries. He was so casual and loose in his stance, as though he hadn't a care in the world.

 _Man of Mirrors_.

"Stay out of this," Vlodimir growled, hands balled into fists at his sides as he rose from the crates he had been sitting on.

Geralt took a step in front of Shani, ignoring her confused and questioning look. He didn't know whether Gaunter O'Dimm would do anything to her, or any of these other people, but he did _not_ want to take the chance. This man had conjured a hurricane to release Geralt from his imprisonment on that ship, who knew what else he could do.

Gaunter gave Vlodimir a heated side glance as the ghost approached to his right, slowly biting a chunk out of the apple in his right hand. That was when Vlodimir gasped, and Geralt looked over to watch the ghost widen his eyes and sink down to the ground. He clutched at his head and screamed, an awful noise, rocking back and forth violently as his nail dug into translucent cheeks. 

"Stop!" Vlodimir buried his face into his hands, shaking. "I _beg_ you, _stop!_ "

The Man of Mirrors smirked as he fully turned to look down on Vlodimir, _pleased_ with himself. "Get ye hence, or I'll take you _with_ me, and your moldy crypt will look like _paradise_ in comparison." He had formed this pleasant little smile on his face. "The choice is yours."

He brought the apple to his mouth once again, taking a larger bite than before and Vlodimir _wailed_ then, throwing his arms down as if he were reaching for Geralts boots; his fingers just went through them. He looked up at Geralt, desperate and trying to hang on while Gaunter waited patiently, the same pleased look dancing across his features.

"Don't torture him," Geralt said, shaking his head and stopping Shani before she spoke. 

"I promise he'll not die," Gaunter said, taking another bite of the apple and sending Vlodimir into _another_ wave of agony. 

Geralt was beginning to feel the energy radiating from Vlodimir, unable to focus on whether it was truly due to Vlodimir or _whatever_ Gaunter O'Dimm was doing to him. Geralts amulet trembled violently against his chest beneath his stolen clothes, and the edges of his vision blurred with the waves of whatever energy Vlodimirs ghost was radiating.

"What is this?" Shani murmured from behind Geralt, her eyes narrowed and expressing her discomfort when Geralt looked back at her. 

"Geralt please... _please_ ," Vlodimir pleaded, drawing Geralt's gaze again, though he was struggling to keep his balance. "Go to Aislin."

Gaunter narrowed his eyes, prepared to open his mouth and speak, but Vlodimir disappeared, and the air grew uncomfortably quiet in his absence.

* * *

_Meanwhile_

* * *

The last time Aislin had seen Olgierd was the night he had left.

 _"I...I set the study ablaze,"_ his hands shook as he spoke, quiet because they were hiding in the windmill, like when they were children. _"By the Gods, I didn't mean'ta, I just..."_

That was the first time Aislin had touched Olgierd of her own volition. Any other time it was him reaching a hand out to her because she was getting left behind, or him holding her shoulder while she cried over scraped knees. That time, she had reached out trying to comfort him, placed a hand on his arm and smiled softly, praying it was enough.

That felt like a millennia ago, saying goodbye to Olgierd and thinking she would never see him again. But now, nearly fifteen years later, he is standing by her front door and Aislin can't seem to do anything but wonder _why is he back all of a sudden?_ Because something was _wrong_ with Olgierd, Aislin didn't need intuition to determine _that_.

"I waited until the Witcher had come and gone to return," Olgierd finally said, breaking what Aislin considered a stiff silence. "Did not want him _interfering_."

Aislin tried to even out her breathing, heart feeling like it was close to climbing up and out through her throat. She stayed where she was across the room, watching Olgierd take a few steps around, looking at the little trinkets and old bottles filled with mysterious liquid that adorned her shelves. Some were hers, he knew that of course, but most of those bottles were filled with the small rocks and shells they had brought Alma when they were children.

Aislin almost could not comprehend that Olgierd was here _again._ But that was how it always was with the von Everec boys, every time her thoughts told her _just this one time_ , they came back into her life.

Just one more time.

"Why are you here?" Her voice was low, but he heard her and turned, expression flat. "Olgierd, after all this time, you come back and then...you send a _Witcher_ to resurrect Vlodimir?" Her heart was picking up again, loud in her ears. "It worked, by the way, I hope you know that."

"Vlodimir," he murmured and sat in one of chairs at her kitchen table. "Well, did you speak to him?"

Aislin shook her head. "What would I say?"

The way Olgierd looked at her made Aislin so _umcomfortable_ , like when he had been here the night he left, it was that _same_ damn stare. She knew what he _thought_ she had said, what he _thought_ she would have been itching to confess when she got the chance because Olgierd knew.

Olgierd knew it was always _Vlodimir_.

"I would never," Aislin muttered, her voice conveying how offended and astonished she was that he would even _think_ that. "Olgierd...Olgierd, what do you _want_?" She shook her head and turned around, unable to bear him staring at her face. "Do you not _see_ how hard this on me? Do you not _care?_ "

"Honestly?" Aislin looked over her shoulder, saw the contemplative look on Olgierds face. "I don't know if I really care or not." He stood up, and Aislin turned around to face him again. "I do know that...s _omehow_ , I actually forgot about you. I wanted to apologize for that."

Aislin blinked at him slowly. "It's unnecessary," she mumbled, shaking her head at him slowly. "Olgierd, you _have_ to tell me what's going on...you know that, right?"

Olgierd nodded. "I know I do, but not right now."

"What do you mean _not right now_?" She was close to tears, sharp heat pricking the corners of her eyes, unbidden tears threatening to spill over. "I will never understand you. I think..." He was staring at her and, for a brief moment, Aislin saw his _sadness **.**_ "I think you will _always_ be a mystery to me."

Aislin didn't mean to say that, didn't mean to blush the way she did and turn away because he just couldn't _see_ that on her. She was overwhelmed right now, because she had experienced _years_ of loneliness with Vlodimirs grave and her little shack. Life hadn't been what she wanted, it had not turned into the life she had _imagined_ because Vlodimir died, and then Olgierd left her here with no reason for her to cling to. And now that he was back...she almost wished she hadn't run home that day, hadn't run to the tombs to defend Vlodimirs _bones_ , because just _maybe_ she wouldn't feel so shaken up and uncertain about what was going on around her.

Because, to Aislin, Olgierd would still be as dead as his brother to her.

"You only came here to alologize?" She murmured, staring out to the storm that was beginning to gather outside, lightning flashing in the distance. 

"I came to return this, as well."

Aislin turned around, blinking slowly as she stared at the scarf in his hands: _her_ scarf. "Where...?" She moved closer to him, reaching out to take the cloth in her hands.

"It was on the road," Olgierd explained, dropping his hands once she had a hold on the scarf. "I almost did not see it."

"Why did you pick it up?" She wrapped the scarf around her neck, closing her eyes at the freshness of Alma's perfume on it. "Her perfume," Aislin mumbled as she opened her eyes. "How did you know?"

"I will never forget the scent that woman wore," Olgierd said, smiling softly at some memory Aislin guessed. "And as to why I picked up your scarf...I was reminded of when we were children, always picking up what you and Vlodimir left behind."

Aislin hated that, hated everything he had said, because it reminded _her_ of when they were children and left Aislin with an indescribable feeling of _loneliness_. It reminded her that Olgierd was actually alive, and not dead like she had convinced herself because, suddenly, he was _here_.

"You always do this, Olgierd," Aislin murmured, wrapping her arms around her stomach. "You would always just...be there and..." She shook her head. "I have always had this knot in my stomach in your presence," she admitted. "But not once did I ever fear you, because you had never _given_ me a reason to think that feeling had any proof."

The way Olgierd was staring at her was not unlike the way he had looked at her when they were introduced as children. It was always as though Olgierd knew something that Aislin didn't.

" _This is my brother, Olgierd von Everec!_ "

Oh, those butterflies.

"Aislin," Olgierd muttered, stepping closer to the frozen girl. "You were always following in Vlodimir's footsteps I think...I think that I _forget_..."

Aislin closed her eyes when she saw Olgierd was lifting his hand up, his destination: her face. There was no contact, however, Aislin suprised to see the disgruntled look on Olgierds face when she slowly reopened her eyes. He dropped his hand and turned around, walking over to one of the windows beside the front door; Aislin released a shaky sigh of relief.

"The Witcher is back," Olgierd muttered and turned back around to Aislin. "See what he wants."

Aislin hesitated, hearing Geralt soothing his horse to a stop in front of the shack. " _What?_ "

Olgierd didn't give her a reply, disappearing into her bedroom and going silent. Aislin shook her head and, willing the blush to leave her cheeks, she unwrapped the scarf from her neck and went to greet the Witcher. He was at the foot of the steps, tired and aggravated, but he was also giving her a suspicious look.

"You're back," Aislin said, shutting her door behind her before crossing her arms over her chest. "Is Vlodimir...gone?"

Geralt opened his mouth, but hesitated and closed it before taking a step back. "He's why I'm here, something happened at the wedding."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I know this update was off schedule, but unfortunately where I live was in the path of Hurricane Zeta. We've only had power for a few days, and wifi only for a day so it took a minute to get settled back in. But posts will be back on Tuesdays as planned!

_This is why we couldn't rely  
_ _on the promises that we spoke._

* * *

_"Something happened at the wedding."_

Aislin had heard those words before.

_"He gets so mad, so easily, now."_

"What do you mean _something happened_?" Aislin reached a hand up to grab at her collar and hold it tight. "Is he okay?"

_"Aislin, I don't know what's wrong with Olgierd."_

Geralt had moved from where he was at the foot of the steps, stepping a little farther from the house, and Aislin followed him. She looked around for Olgierds horse, confused when she did not see one - how did he get here? He couldn't have left already, Geralt surely would have heard or noticed him in some other way at least.

"I need you to tell me everything you know about the Man of Mirrors."

Aislin was taken back by the look Geralt was giving her, one of suspicion and questions he wasn't asking yet. The way he acted - fingertips twitching at his sides, eyes lingering over her shoulder and not her face - said that her suspicions were correct in that something _was_ going on. Olgierd was hiding something from her, and Geralt knew exactly what that something was; would he tell her now? Aislin wouldn't get her hopes up too high, Olgierd had let her down before and if Geralt was involved with him, he would surely do the same.

"I...Who?" She shook her head and let go of her collar, dropping her hand back to her side. "I haven't met anyone by that name..."

"Gaunter O'Dimm, maybe?" Geralt crossed his arms over his chest. "He claims to be a traveling merchant."

Aislin shook her head again, this time slow and showing her utter _confusion_. "I can't say that I _have_ met him, but what does he have to do with _Vlodimir_? Geralt, what happened? Is he okay?"

Geralt looked her up and down, eyes flickering around Aislins face and making his judgement rather quickly. "O'Dimm did something to him," her stomach dropped when he spoke. "I don't know what it was, some powerful force was...I think he left of his own volition." At Aislins horrified expression, he clarified. "Nothing was said after the threat, Vlodimir went silent and just... _poofed_ away."

"You _think_?" Aislin started to shake her head, but instead gathered her skirts in her hands. "By the gods," she muttered and turned away from Geralt.

"Where are you going?" Geralt questioned, holding out a hand when she started to run. "The things I get myself into..." Geralt sighed and started to follow Aislin, at a slower pace. 

Aislin didn't know _what_ she expected herself to do, fingers damp with sweat as she fumbles with the key to the padlock. Did Olgierd hear? Should she have said something to him? He didn't want the Witcher to see him, but was it really such a big deal that he was there? With her? At his family's estate? The thought that Geralt could be just another of Olgierds shady associates was becoming less and less probable if Olgierd was hiding from the Witcher when he appeared.

Geralts footsteps grew closer as Aislin stopped at the towering gate, his steps a sluggish across the gravel that seemed so loud in the quiet hours of the early morning. Aislin was staring at the key in her hand, fingers clenching and unclenching around the rusted piece of metal that had grown heavier in he days following her encounter with Olgierd in the crypt. It seemed so long ago, but in reality, it had only been a month since she had run into him, ready to flay him alive when she thought he was there to rob Vlodimirs grave, ready to hide when she had realized it was _him._

"You okay?" Geralt placed a hand on her shoulder, eyebrow raised when he saw the tears in her eyes as she looked up at him. "What?"

Aislin opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, turning to look through the bars of the gate and up to the faint glow of the crypt door up ahead. "I-I just...everything is happening so fast." She shook her head, taking the heavy padlock in her left hand gently. "A month ago, Olgierd was dead. To me at least, that was what it felt like." She let the lock and chain fall into the dirt, pushing the gate open. "He...He had been coming here for years, and I had just been missing him. _Every time._ "

"Talk about bad timing," Geralt mumbled, following behind Aislin. "How the hell do you miss someone in your backyard for years?"

Aislin frowned as they climbed the steps to the crypt door slowly; her stomach twisted with every sluggish step. "He didn't want to see me," she grumbled, pausing at the entrance with her hand on the door bars. "I have not been inside today, we need to relight the candles, can you help?"

Geralt nodded, a small flame forming in the palm of his right hand. "I got it."

Aislin stepped aside to let Geralt go ahead of her, his silent footsteps now such a contrast to earlier; it makes her want to smile, knowing he had begrudgingly followed her up to the crypt, most likely to check on her. The candles gave off a warm glow descending down into the central chamber, neither Aislin or Geralt feeling the need to bother with the previous ceremony when it was still surprisingly smoky inside, though most of it had become densely packed against the stone floor. Geralt lit the brazier in the center of the room though, the green flame as stunning as it was before, causing Aislins skin to prickle with chills from head to toe. 

"Place is creepy, even by my standards," Geralt said to Aislin, his eyes flickering back and forth, fire reflected in his eyes. "Feels like I'm bein' watched all the time."

Aislin nodded as she picked up the discarded censer Geralt left behind, gently dumping the ash from inside onto the floor. "We may be, Alma had always told me the von Everec family were very protective of one another," she grabbed the old broom in the corner as she spoke. "But they only appear for von Everec blood."

"And you've done nothing but tend to this place since you were a child?"

Aislin smiled softly as she swept, nodding after a moment. "Olgierd and Vlodimir...helped me come to accept my powers, using them allowed me to...see what they could not. Olgierd was curious mainly." She leaned the broom against the wall again once she had accumulated a decent pile of dust. "We would hide in here for _hours_ , sharing dreams of his families past and learning so many secrets...Vlodimir bored of it easily."

Geralt seemed hesitant to say something, sighing heavily when Aislin gave him a puzzled look. "They meant a lot to you, the von Everec brothers."

"They did, yes." Aislin nodded and closed the space to join him at the lit brazier. "They all did, their parents took me in. Alma treated me as though I were her own child. Olgierd and Vlodimir...they were the only friends I ever had."

The words were heavy with grief, just like every other part of AIslin, Geralt realized quite late. Everything about this girl, from the moment he had met her, _was_ grief - she had become nothing but a shadow of what the von Everecs had been, lingering in their place and keeping their memory alive, if only barely. Each memory she shared, even happy, had been accompanied by this overwhelming look of sadness in those big eyes of hers. 

"Shouldn't we go ahead and do this?" Aislin looked up at Geralt, brow furrowed slightly. "Will this work without that...brew?" So she knew it was blood without even getting a good look at the vial from before. 

Geralt grumbled a little. "He will come, I know he will...just ask for him."

AIslin stared at the Witcher for a long time, her hands trembling at the short sentence, the simple request conveyed through that oddly soft look in his eyes. AIslin looked back into the flames of the brazier, her mouth suddenly dry and her throat feeling close to closing up for good; why did she have to act that way? she closed her eyes and took a deep breath then, releasing it slowly as she tried to still her rattled nerves and open her eyes to stare back into those haunting, green flames in front of her. 

"Vlodimir?" Aislin called out to the room, her soft voice still echoing against the walls and the ceiling, back into her ears and proving to Aislin just how weak she still was. "Vlodimir...I know you're here. You were always here...weren't you?" Her voice trembled at the end. "Please, Vlodimir, I know I haven't talked to you in so long but...I _have_ to know that you're okay, Geralt said that something happened when you were out and I'm scared, okay?"

She couldn't look at Geralt, not with the tears now streaming down her face and that tremble in her lip that only grew more unsteady as the silence stretched between them. Aislin leaned onto the stone of the braziers pillar for support, squeezing her eyes shut until the tears had no room to flow and her teeth made this awful grinding noise when she tried to stop herself from trembling. She _hated_ this, hated that she was shaking so badly and that she couldn't help but cry because she really _was_ scared and not knowing whether or not his ghost was still here, lingering around and watching over her, was absolutely killing Aislin in that moment. Because if he didn't show himself, it would mean - to her - that Vlodimir was actually dead now and the thought was unbearable.

"Aislin…" Geralt's voice sounded far away, but she felt his fingers on her right shoulder. "Aislin, he's here."

She no longer cared that he saw her tears when her head shot up, eyes flickering around the room and praying that she could _see_ him, but it was still just her and Geralt in the room. "Wh-Where is he?"

Geralt looked over his shoulder and sighed, taking a step back before he gave Aislin a particularly grumpy look and crossed his arms over his chest. "One more time." He held up at finger at Aislin. "One more time, and no more possession. I mean it."

AIslin furrowed her brow, but this time in denial that he was allowing this. "Any other time, I would try to argue you out of it, Geralt…"

He waved a hand at her. "Don't, we both get information out of this and..." he let his sentence die before shaking his head and dropping his arms back to his sides. "Promise I won't pass out if I don't fight it, like ya said?" He asked at the empty air behind him before sighing and nodding. "Fine, let's get this over with. Better be right."

There was a small grunt from Geralts lips then, his fingers splayed at his sides before they clenched tightly and his entire body trembled. Aislin watched him twitch and grunt for a moment, taking a small step back just in case, but then his eyes opened and, even with those golden cat eyes, Aislin felt that rush of _relief_ she had always felt under Vlodmir's gaze.

"You're here," she whispered, taking that step closer to him. "You're really here? Vlodimir?"

A soft smile, even on the wrong face. "It's been far too long since we have spoken, little bird."

Aislin shook her head, smiling up at him sadly. "I have missed you, things have not been the same, as I'm sure you know by now. What happened at the wedding, Vlodimir?"

This time, she received a frown. "A man...no, no he was no man. He banished me while I spoke with Geralt."

"Are you hurt?"

Vlodimir chuckled, reaching out to grab Aislins hand, but it felt weird when his hand was covered in leather. Vlodimir never wore such things, preferring fine robes and shoes, jewelry to grace his fingers and show he was no mere man, but one of noble blood, and everyone should know that. With him inside of Geralt, it was so strange and foreign, because she _knew_ it was Vlodimir in there, but it was still Geralts face, his smile and his hands that touched hers.

"Always tending to me, even in death." He shook his head. "I am fine, Aislin, it is Olgierd you need to be worrying about now. He needs you, Aislin, before it is too late."

Aislin frowned, shaking her head slowly and letting go of his hand. "Vlodimir, how can I help him? He did not even remember me until a few weeks ago...he is not the same, I do not see what _I_ can do to help."

"Aislin," Vlodimir started, taking a step closer to the nervous woman. "I do not know what has happened since my death, but there is something seriously wrong with my brother and he needs help. I trust no one else but you to help him, let alone figure out just what it could be that is wrong with him." He shook his head and turned away, taking a few steps towards his grave. "When he visits, he says so many things...it is hard to remember them all, but even when drunk, he is very careful to not say _too_ much."

"He could not know you were listening, Vlodimir, so how can you know he was hiding anything?" Aislin wrapped her arms around herself. "Perhaps in his grief he simply... _lost control._ "

Vlodimir scoffed and turned back to Aislin, giving her a scolding look. "Now, Aislin, you know Olgierd is not like that. He was always the one to keep his cool, even when mother and father died, he held everything together until the end."

Aislin bit her tongue, not wanting to spend what was possibly a short time speaking with Vlodimir; she didn't want to waste it. "What do you need from me, Vlodimir? Should I go and...chase him down? Beg him to come to his senses? Tell me everything?" She lowered her gaze to the floor as she dropped her arms back down to her sides, fingers clenched lightly into fists. "I was never the one he shared things with."

She heard a throaty chuckle, looking up and seeing Vlodimir smiling at her; silly girl. "Help Geralt, my brother spoke of him when he visited last, said perhaps a Witcher was the very thing he needed to 'fix the mess he had made', or so he said before you arrived that day."

Aislin felt her cheeks flush at the thought, keeping her eyes down and her hands surprisingly steady. "I don't want to leave you, Vlodimir," she whispered.

He gave a heavy sigh, and how Aislin _hated_ that it was coated with Geralts voice. Just once more, she wanted to hear _his_ voice - his _laugh_ when Olgierd would get jealous over his marksmanship, the chuckle when Aislin actually thought of a joke that was funny. 

But she would never hear any of that again, and still...

"You never smile anymore," Vlodimir said, drawing Aislins bloodshot eyes up from staring at the floor. "You were always such a timid girl, but at least you _smiled_ before everything went to hell."

Aislin bit her lip. "But...everything is gone, Vlodimir. Olgierd is someone I no longer know and I -"

"He is still my brother, Aislin." Vlodimir cut her off, face twisted into this mixture of sadness and grief. "I cannot do anything to fix whatever it is he has gotten himself into, so it _has_ to be you." 

As he took a step closer, Aislin shook her head and stumbled back from him. "I can see nothing but Geralts face, Vlodimir," she whispered. "I...Neither you nor Olgierd seem to understand just what it is I lost when you died." Her fists clenched once again at her sides, but she didn't cry. "When he _left_ me here, all alone...suddenly I see him again, for the first time in _years_ and...he doesn't remember me," her voice trembled at the end.

The way Olgierd had looked at her that day, as though she were nothing but a stranger, a trespasser in their home. It made Aislin sick to her stomach, made her...

"And then...miraculously, I sit here and speak to your ghost through a Witchers body..." Aislin chuckled a little, but it was dry and tired. "I should have just told Geralt to leave when he arrived that day. Maybe then I could have just gone back to my normal life."

Vlodimir stayed silent while Aislin ranted, staring at her solemnly with hands, clad in leather, curled into loose fists at his sides. He was expecting _so much_ of her, straight from the grave and begging her to do something she knew was impossible - save Olgierd. From what, exactly? And work the Geralt? She didn't know this man, even if he had not once made her feel uncomfortable, or threatened. But what exactly did Vlodimir expect them to do to help Olgierd, when no one _knew_ what was wrong?

"Gaunter O'Dimm," Aislin murmured, furrowing her brow in thought. "Who is he?" Vlodimir opened his mouth, ready to protest, but Aislin cut him off. "Don't lie to me, Vlodimir." He closed his mouth, frowning at her. "Dead or not, he is your brother, right? Surely he would share something like that with your grave."

Vlodimir didn't say anything for a long time, looking around the room while Aislin patiently waited. "He only mentioned him when he first mentioned Geralt," Vlodimir finally admitted. "Said he thimks the Witcher could give him a run for his money." A huff. "Don't see how so, Geralt is so boring. Protested every single time I tried to have fun, even a round of Gwent."

"That was all he said?" 

Vlodimir paused, nodding slowly. "If O'Dimms identity is something he wants to keep so secret...can you imagine what _else_ he is hiding?"

Aislin had a clue as to what else Olgierd was hiding, so many questions even Vlodimir did not have; there was so much he had missed. 

She stared up into golden eyes, but for a moment Aislin could believe they were warm brown like in her memories of Vlodimir. His mannerisms were there, even if his form was not, and that was somehow a comfort to Aislin.

"I miss you so much," Aislin sighed, giving Vlodimir a small smile. "And I promise...I'll come back."

She earned a smile for that and, without hesitation, he scooped her up into his arms and hugged her tightly; still not the same. 

"You'll know how to help Geralt," Vlodimir said as he put her down. "I probably will not be able to return like this again."

Aislin gave him a smile, but it was sad and not at all the kind of smile she knew he wanted. "I know," her voice was soft and hoarse. "But it's okay, I know you're here."

"And Geralt isn't really that bad, once you get used to him."

Aislin chuckled. "I know." She sighed and smiled again, trying to seem more at peace than she really was. "Goodbye, Vlodimir." 

"Goodbye, Aislin."

It was less ceremonious that Aislin expected, Geralt shaking his head and pulling slightly to the left as, she supposed, Vlodimir let Geralt have his body to himself again. The Witcher looked around for a moment, rolling his shoulders while he grumbled beneath his breath the entire time. 

"I know you didn't want to be in the middle of that," Aislin said, apologizing without actually saying the words.

Geralt waved a hand. "Don't mention it." He gave Aislin a skeptical look, eyes flickering up and down her form. "He puts alot of faith into you."

Aislin gave a heavy sigh, watching the flame in the central brazier slowly die to mere embers. "He always has." She gestured for Geralt to follow as she headed for the stairs. "He thinks I can help...and I have no idea where he expects me to start."

"By helping me," Geralt said pointedly as he shut the iron door behind them. "That's what he said, right?"

"You just don't exactly seem like you want me involved at all." Aislin paused at the bottom of the stairs. "I don't even think _I_ want me involved," she sighed heavily at the end, giving Geralt a small smile. "But...since you arrived at my door, I knew something was happening..." She started walking again, slow and with her eyes fixated forward. "All these years, he has actually been visiting Vlodimir's grave regularly, and I was simply _missing_ him each time? I cannot sit here and believe it is just simple bad timing, something...something wants me to help Olgierd."

"Yeah, his brother."

Aislin snorted at Geralts comment, locking the gate behind them once again...perhaps for the last time. "Aside from Vlodimir...there are things I have seen, Witcher." Geralt stopped and looked back at her when she spoke, narrowing his eyes at her slightly - but they were devoid of malice. "I know you have seen them too, with the way you look at me the more you learn of the von Everecs. I know there is more than _fate_ at work in our world."

  
Geralt turned to face Aislin fully, his eyes having relaxed. "Then why are you fighting it so hard?"

Aislin sighed and started walking, slow so Geralt could keep pace this time around. "Because...when Vlodimir saved me, he did not just save my life...I had no life before him, it is all a blur of hazy memories and the face of a woman I don't even know is my mother." She stopped at the side of the house, staring up at the sun coming up behind the slow turning windmill. "The only warm memories I have, the only memories I can _remember_ are filled with them and this estate. It's a hard thing to leave, to let go of, to realize that it will _never_ be the same as it was before."

Geralt didn't say anything, and Aislin found the silence uncomfortable when she lingered too long, so eventually she began to wander towards Sashi's paddock. The mare was already moving, the muscles over her haunches twitching as she trotted in circles; did she already know? Geralts horse was snoozing peacefully, with one back leg slightly cocked to shift his weight properly - how envious Aislin was of Geralts luck with his horse. 

"Guess she already knows what's gonna happen," Aislin murmured, chuckling afterwards. "We should get going, before the it gets too warm."

Geralt nodded, trudging off towards his horse while Aislin made her way back into her small hut. It was quiet inside, Olgierd no longer hiding in her bedroom, she didn't know why she thought he would wait. There was little to shove into her satchel, her hands unsure what to grab as she mostly paced about her home instead of actually picking up anything. There was a moment where she picked up the scarf Olgierd had returned to her, almost sad that there was no trace of his smell on the cloth; focus, she needed to focus this time. 

"Was wondering if you were ever going to come out of there," Geralt drawled as Aislin locked her front door, earning a small scowl from the young woman. "Think that's the first time I've seen you display anything other than sadness."

Aislin snorted a little, undoing the latch to Sashi's paddock, the reins in one hands. "Can you help me put her saddle on?"

Geralt nodded. "Was surprised to see you had a horse to your own, living this far out. Usually get stolen by bandits, or eaten by the wild life."

"Sprinkle hair around your yard," Aislin said simply, holding tight to the reigns once she had the leather around the horses face. "It takes a lot, but it works for most things, except for the big critters, and the bandits."

"What do you do about the bandits?"

"I can't...conjure much," Aislin muttered, lowering her gaze to the ground. "But sometimes, I can protect myself with whatever I can muster."

Geralt arched an eyebrow as he adjusted Sashis saddle, satisfied with his work. "Haven't met many dreamers that can manifest magic. Have you practiced?"

Aislins grip tightened on the reins, to the point where her hand trembled slightly. "I learned, a long time ago, not to practice that magic freely." She let out the breath she had been holding towards the end, releasing it slowly. "I knew this would be hard, but I did not think that I would feel so sick about the whole ordeal."

"Because you still dream." Geralt was outside of the paddock already, holding the gate open for Aislin to lead her horse out.

"I don't dream how you think," Aislin said, latching her pack to the saddle.

"I know how oneiromancy works," Geralt huffed from behind Aislin, allowing her to hide the small smirk on her lips. "But you're one of the natural born ones, right? Most I know have to use intoxicants, only the most skillful can use it without."

Aislin shrugged. "I never thought about it...my abilities were always just something I had, I never questioned it much."

Geralt hummed and watched Aislin heave herself up onto Sashis back, with little effort despite the mares protests. The horse snickered and paced back and forth for a second, Aislin sighing heavily and looking very used to her stubborn mares antics. Geralt was curious just as to what part of Vlodimirs plea had changed Aislin, if she even noticed that she had actually relaxed a bit. She was lacking that frown that seemed plastered onto her face from the moment she had opened her door to him.

"Enough talking, we need to get on the road." Geralt hoisted himself into his horses saddle, the lazy beast blinking awake only once Geralt had pulled back on the reigns. "Good to see Roach is excited for the trip."

Aislin actually chuckled at Geralts surprisingly sarcastic comment, his frown making it better. "We could always switch," she offered, pulling Shashi into step beside Roach. "I would prefer to not argue with my horse every ten minutes."

Geralt snorted, shaking his head firmly. "Think I'll stick to Roach."

They fell into a more comfortable silence this time, Aislin gazing up at the colors of the morning sky and watching them blend into what was left of the night sky - a faint stretch of deep blue, littered with stars and fading fast. Geralt swayed in his saddle, comfortable with the familiar rocking of his horses heavy footsteps, and looked so at peace in that moment.

"Do you also feel that?" Geralt murmured as the silence grew so pronounced that they realized the birds had suddenly stopped singing.

Aislin clutches the reins tighter, listening to the huffs of breath Sashi gave, while Roach remained completely calm like his master. "Uh huh," Aislin replied, with that same cautious softness as Geralt had to his own voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, I feel like the carpraltunnel that flared up was worth it. I am almost done with the next chapter for this Tuesday, so no one will have to wait long to read the next chapter. I know this story doesn't get much traffic, but it's still nice to see that other people are enjoying this little fic still :)


	7. Chapter 7

_Perhaps in a different time  
_ _I would have named us hope._

* * *

He tells her to wait when they see flames over the tree tops.

Aislin listens, unsure as to what exactly is going on, until she sees Olgierd and his band of men leaving down the way she and Geralt had just come from. He seemed untouched, as far as Aislin could tell, and his band of men, and women, seemed in high spirits judging by the volume at which they jested with each other; their voices echoed back against the hills. Aislin looked back to where the flames still climbed into the sky, her palms clammy from anticipation and _should she try to say something to Olgierd?_

Aislin stays at a distance with Sashi, biting her lip and contemplating whether or not she should indeed chase after Olgierd, when Geralt appears from the same path he had disappeared down before and Aislin forgot about her idea. Geralt looks aggravated as he approaches on Roach's back, shaking his head and grumbling about Olgierd, it seemed.

"Know who Borsodi is?" He asked as he sidled up beside Aislin.

Her brow furrowed in annoyance, a deep frown on her face. "Yes, Horst Borsodi, his father owned the auction house that gained the von Everec debts."

Geralt hummed and waited for Aislin to get back onto her horse. "Any idea why Olgierd wants me to bring him Maximilian Borsodi's house?"

Aislin gave him a mildly bewildered look. " _That_ is what he is asking of you now?"

Geralt nodded and steered them back onto the road, towards the South this time. "I'm going to leave you with a friend of mind while I see what exactly it is he wants with this house, I'll come back for you soon."

"How is that fair?" Aislin huffed, slouching back into her saddle. "I am too help, am I not? How can I help from a friends home?"

"By not getting dragged into any mess that I seem to attract when I do this stuff," Geralt said, arching an eyebrow at Aislin. "You seem awfully eager all of a sudden."

"I just..." Aislin shrugged, shaking her head softly as she let her eyes flicker across the matte brown fields on either side of them. "I want to help...Vlodimir thinks I can, and I trust his judgement. As I said before, you and I both know there are more tangible things than fate at work in this world. Years apart, and Olgierd is suddenly...back in my life, become quite a big part of it again and I cannot ignore such a thing. Sitting still was not exactly what I expected."

Geralt gave her a heavy sigh, like a scolding parent would. "Look, I've been doing this for awhile, and something always goes wrong when it shouldn't. I don't need to be watching out for you while also watching my own back." He looked over at her. "It's just best for you to stay somewhere safe while I figure out a plan. I have no idea what I'm looking for exactly, it couldn't _possibly_ be an actual house Olgierd is asking for."

"He asked you to bring it to him, hmm?" Geralt nodded at her question. "Then that means something, wording was always key with Olgierd. He said words held so much power, good or bad may it be."

Geralt was silent again, something Aislin was actually grateful for this time. Geralt had not noticed, but her hands were shaking and her skin was a bit clammy - Aislin was more than nervous. It wasn't just that she wanted to actually do something to help, Aislin was still completely unsure of what it was she was going to do. Geralt was a Witcher, the supernatural were something he was trained to fight and handle, Aislin had never dealt with anything worse than a nekker that wandered too far out of the forest once, and even then she had Vlodimir to help her handle it then.

"I will try to learn what I can about Gaunter O'Dimm while I wait for you." AIslin conceded, giving Geralt a small smile as she tried to still the shaking in her hands. "Just...don't leave me too far out of the loop, okay? I'm supposed to be here to help."

Geralt nodded, giving her a rare smile. "Deal."

* * *

Her name is Shani, Geralts friend that he leaves Aislin with.

AIslin honestly expected much worse, but Shani is very warm and welcoming, closing her shop early to host Aislin in private. Geralt leaves them alone rather abruptly, but Aislin finds that she doesn't mind, especially when Shani offers tea.

"It is hard to get shipments of fresh leaves so far North," Aislin says when Shani asks about her amazement. "There are traders to the village, fish is what keeps it alive and well, but rarely are they there for anything more than meat and salt, perhaps fruit if anyone has the proper coin."

"I could not imagine living out in such a remote location my entire life." Shani shook her head and set her cup on the table they were sitting at downstairs. "Have you been to the city much?"

Aislin paused in lifting her cup to her lips, remembering, once again, the cold touch of her mothers hand as they wandered a similar city to Oxenfurt, with that red brick and twisted pathways. "I..." She lowered her cup back to her lap. "Not since I was very young, with my mother."

Shani hummed. "I never read your names in the employee documents of the von Everec estate," she said, arching her eyebrow slightly at Aislin. "Why were you never documented?"

"i was adopted, by the groundskeepers widow, Alma. I wouldn't be listed as a worker, I would be listed as family."

"And therefore, no need to document since you're adopted." Shani smiled and shook her head. 

AIslin nodded and took a slow sip of her tea. "They didn't want my mother finding me," she whispered as she set her cup down beside Shani's. "They cared for their workers, Alma especially with how she treated the boys. She begged them to keep me hidden, she had already lost her son...losing me would have killed her."

Shani's smile was tender. "You really cared for her."

Aislin nodded, sighing as she leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling. "I haven't thought about Olgierd or Alma so much in years, the past month has been so hard to cope with."

"And I can tell Geralt has been no help with that," Shani chuckled at the end of her sentence. "I apologize for him, he can be a bit rough."

"I noticed." AIslin picked up her cup again, smiling. "He hasn't been that bad, more patient than I expected with how bluntly he speaks. He seemed to genuinely care about Vlodimirs well being after whatever happened at the wedding."

Shani frowned at the mention of the wedding, and Aislin quickly realized that Shani had been there. "Vlodimir was a surprise himself, but that man that showed up..." She shook her head slowly. "I could not see Vlodimir, but Geralt could and the way he looked at the empty space where Vlodimir should have been...the feeling of that power radiating into the air...it made me nauseous."

"I almost went to the wedding," Aislin admitted. "I should have."

Shani reached over and placed a comforting hand on Aislins knee. "There was nothing you could have done, except for be as helpless as we were to stop whatever that man was doing. Geralt mentioned him before you came in, so he's okay?"

Aislin nodded. "Yes, I talked to him..." She gave Shani a curious look. "Did he seem...happy? At the wedding, I mean."

Shani hummed softly, standing up from her chair with her empty cup in hand. "He was quite the show, at first." She shrugged as she poured more tea into her cup. "Something seemed to be weighing on his mind," Shani looked back over at Aislin as she spoke, a smile on her face. "Perhaps, something about _you_?"

There was a blush on Aislin's cheeks, one that made her skin so unbearably warm. "It's not like that," she murmured, standing up from her own chair. "Is there somewhere I could rest? I did not sleep last night, and I think I'm beginning to feel it."

Shani gave her a sympathetic smile and nodded. "You can use my bed, I'll be down here going over papers." Aislin nodded, not fully listening to Shani and more focused on getting upstairs and _alone._ "Aislin?" Shani's voice was soft, cautious, but was enough to draw the retreating woman's attention. "There wasn't...anyone, at the wedding I mean." Shani cleared her throat, obviously as uncomfortable as Aislin was. "He was rowdy but he...I'm gonna shut up now."

Aislin didn't say anything, instead climbing the stairs like she wanted to and collapsing into Shani's bed. Her cheeks were still hot, so burying her face into the thick comforter was out of the question, instead, Aislin found herself staring up at the ceiling in thought. There was a faint shuffle from Shani going through her aforementioned papers, but also the faint bell from a ship arriving in the docks, even children running down the street, their laughs fading into the distance. Typical noises of a life in the city, something Aislin was severely lacking experience in, evident by the way every noise was making her skin crawl the longer she sat there.

She wanted to be _home_.

Aislin felt stupid thinking like that, considering she had made the decision to go with Geralt instead of waiting for the inevitable in her little hut. What if she had not come with him? What difference could she make in being here, helping Geralt when all she was _really_ doing was lying in some strangers home while he was doing all the actual work? Was Vlodimir right in what he believed? That Aislin herself could make some sort of difference, save Olgierd from whatever it was that everyone seemed to think he needed saving from? There was plenty of room for doubt, but little time for the actual process; she could not return home now, not when she had felt so sure in her decision to tag along with the Witcher, at the whim of her dead friend.

_"You're always so negative."_

Vlodimir had always said that, a giant, cheeky smile on his face as Aislin was recovering from whatever laughing fit he would throw her into. He said it was unhealthy to be as negative as she was, but Aislin had tried so hard to be happy for him and Olgierd - though, the latter never complained about her demeanor. Olgierd was the slow one, even as the defacto leader of their band of misfits, he was always patient and never tried to push Aislin.

 _"Vlodimir is wrong,"_ Olgierd had said while they waited for Vlodimir one morning, sitting alone in the windmill outside of Alma's hut. _"You do not need to be as loud and exuberant as he is to be happy, your negativity is reality."_

"Why now?" Aislin kept her voice low, arms crossed over her face now. "Why..." her voice trailed off, and then she sighed heavily, dropping her arms and pushing herself up in the bed. 

Shani was sitting at the table with her tea still, but it no longer steamed from the rim and seemed forgotten among the two boxes filled with sealed envelopes inside that Shani had moved onto the table. The woman looked up when Aislin had reached the bottom of the stairs, watching Aislin silently as she laced her boots, only speaking up once Aislin had wrapped her scarf around her neck.

"Going for a walk?" Shani set down the parchment she had been reading, turning in her seat to face Aislin. "Want company?"

Aislin shook her head, hand on the doorknob. "No, thank you though." She gave Shani the warmest smile she could muster, even when her eyes felt so heavy. "I just need some air is all, I won't be too long."

Shani sighed. "What do I tell Geralt if he gets here before you do?"

"That I went out for a walk."

She earned a chuckle from Shani that time, the woman waving her off. "Be careful, if there is any trouble come right back. It's getting very late."

Aislin nodded and gave Shani a small wave before she shut the door behind her, stuffing her hands into the apron she had yet to take off. Sashi was tied up beside Roach still, both horses sleeping peacefully, perhaps lulled to sleep by the gentle splashing from the water in the port nearby. Aislin wandered past the waterside, passing a group of sailors offloading their cargo from the only ship in port right now; one of them gave her a polite nod, Aislin returning it kindly. The city was not silent, necessarily, but the noises had slowly begun to disappear the further she got from Shani's and, for a moment, Aislin was reminded of the silence at home.

_"Why would you wanna go to the city?"_

_"I...I want a new dress."_

She was too embarrassed to admit it at the time, but Aislin had always been so embarrassed to be seen at Vlodimirs side - not because of him, but because of herself. She had always made sure to be clean after her chores, before Vlodimir and Olgierd would come calling for her, but her clothes...

"Stop," Aislin muttered to herself, a desperate whisper that begged the memories to just _go away for a moment._

Aislin wrapped her arms tight around herself as she turned a corner, seeing an empty, dark street and decided to turn back towards Shani's home. Hearing her boots softly pat against the cobblestone was the most ominous part of the walk now, the noise making her breath quicken as her anxiety began to slowly get to her and how far had she managed to walk lost in those damn thoughts of hers?

She freezes when she realizes she can no longer see the water of the port.

Aislin swivels her head back and forth, not seeing a soul in sight, but wishing there was at least a guard to ask for directions - surely someone would know where a doctor like Shani lived. Aislin was careful as she tried to listen for the waves of the port, but only hearing the sounds of revelry growing closer and closer, accompanied by a light source that faintly lit the streets, allowing Aislin to find her way to the tavern pretty easily.

"Oh, an inn," Aislin said when she saw the sign hanging above the small porch attached to the building, that was not much bigger itself. 

Before she could cross the street to enter the building, someone had stepped out in front of her and backed her into the alley she had emerged from. Aislin saw the shimmering chest plate and recognized guard armor, her heart rate slowing as she breathed in relief. It was a group of drunkards she had been concerned about, not a lonely guard patrolling a stretch of road in the middle of the night.

"What are ye doin' out here?" The guard scowled down at her, arms crossed over his chest and demanding an answer without asking again.

"I-I got lost," Aislin admitted, hands clasped together in front of her. "I need some help getting back to my...friends."

The guard snorted and lowered his arms back to his sides. "That right?" As he spoke, Aislin saw the other guard approaching with a torch in hand. "If ya gonna be doin' that kind of business 'round here, maybe we can look away for a discount."

Aislin blinked up at him, slowly processing his insinuation as the other guard stopped beside him, effectively blocking off the way to the inn. "E-Excuse me?"

The guard chuckled, the other curious about the situation his comrade had found for himself to meddle in. Aislin was sure she knew _exactly_ what he was talking about, what he was suggesting, but the claustrophobia was beginning to make Aislin's heart race and her breath quicken, unsure in what to say or do with such confrontation. They had not made a move towards her, yet, but Aislin made sure to remember that the alley behind her was still empty and free for her to escape should anything happen.

"Playing dumb?" The first guard stepped closer, chuckling when Aislin stumbled back a step. "What's wrong? Why ya so jumpy, huh?"

Aislin saw his hand reaching out for her and closed her eyes shut, dropping down into a small huddle against the cobblestone beneath their feet. She was shaking fiercely, scrambling for her scarf when it slipped off of her next, unaware that the guards were no longer focused on her, but the tall shadow behind them. Aislin hastily wrapped her scarf back around her neck, heart hammering in her chest as she remembered grasping hands so long ago, tugging her hair and pulling her through the dirt while taunting her with mean words and hateful laughter. 

_"Witches don't get trials."_

Would they try to burn her, too? Would they laugh as she cried for her mother, _anyone_ , to save her?

 _"Witches just get_ burned. _"_

"Darling, there you are."

Aislin still hesitated to look up, eyes wide and blurry with tears as she stared down at the ground and listened to her heart beat drown out only that voice. Firm hands wrapped around her elbows and Aislin allowed herself to be lifted back onto her feet, no matter how badly they shook beneath her even when propped up. She could smell the musk of Olgierd, the wine that stained his breath and the smell of hay from being on his horse for most of the day. 

He was saying something as he led her past the guards, but it was the last thing Aislin was focused on in that moment. With each step, further and further from the lights of the inn, Aislin tried to steady her breathing, and the harsh tremble in her hands. Olgierd kept a hold on her, patient as Aislin led them slowly towards the sounds of the ocean just beyond the buildings to their right. Everything blended together here, no way to tell any of the buildings apart, but there was relief when they entered into a spacious courtyard that had other paths into the city branching off from it. The one Aislin was focused on showed a dimly lit archway, with the waves visible on the other side and meaning she was one step closer to getting back to Shani's home.

But Aislin did not make it that far, leaning heavily towards the nearest bench and collapsing onto it when Olgierd released his grip on her elbows. The wooden bench groaned slightly beneath Aislins sudden weight, her fingers curling around the back of it to steady herself. Olgierd waited for her to catch her breath, only slightly, before he crouched down in front of her and gave her the most scrutinizing of looks, with slightly narrowed eyes and pursed lips; she knew he would not be happy if he knew she was anywhere near _whatever_ was going on.

"Why are you in the city?" His voice sounded so distant, even though he was right in front of her.

Aislin stared at Olgierd, bewildered and out of breath. "O-Olgierd," she stuttered, hand clutched at the fabric of her dress over her chest as she seemed to just now fully process that it was really _him_. "What...I saw you..." He had been going the opposite way as her just this morning.

"Did you follow the Witcher?" He cocked his head slightly to the right, flame-red locks flopping across his forehead with the small action. "Or did he ask for you assistance?"

Aislin swallowed the thick lump in her throat, adjusting her posture so she was no longer slouched halfway down onto the bench seat. Her forehead felt damp with sweat, bangs lightly clinging to the skin uncomfortably before she pushed them back from her face. He was giving her no time to even process that fact that he was _here_ and not off on some other adventure, or whatever it was he did with his days now. He continued to just _appear_ with no warning, no time for Aislin to prepare herself to face him.

"I...Vlodimir wanted me to help Geralt," her voice was slow, still shaky from her run in with the guards. "And I-I see that look on your face, but I _talked_ to him, Olgierd, and I -"

Olgierd sighed and pushed himself to his feet, towering over her and making Aislin feel small again, but she was not scared of Olgierd. His glare was definitely directed at Aislin, but she only saw that he was scolding her, mirroring the past when Vlodimir would pull Aislin along with whatever mischief he had planned. Olgierd always scolded Vlodimir, saying he should not drag Aislin into his messes, but the truth was, Vlodimir had tried talking Aislin out of following him _every time._

"You need rest," he said, holding out a hand to Aislin. "Come now, let's get you back to where Geralt left you."

Aislin did not push the subject. "It's off of the water..." She took his offered hand and let him pull her to her feet. "I was just out for a walk, I am sure Shani is worried about where I am."

"That who Geralt left you with?" Olgierd let go of her hand and gestured for Aislin to take the lead. 

"Yes." Aislin nodded, sighing in relief as they passed beneath the nearby archway that opened up to the port and the ship from earlier, with its sailors still lingering about and taking a break from unloading cargo. "It should be right up here, I must have just done one big loop."

The sailors gave yet another polite nod as Aislin passed, looking worn out, even though she could see the other crew mates still bringing cargo up from below deck and stacking it near the exit ramp. Clouds rolled and coiled over head, rapidly moving south with a heavy wind as company. It raised Aislins skirts as she walked, and Aislin sighed at the wash of cool air over her hot skin.

"It would seem so," Olgierd hummed, steady in pace beside Aislin. "But," he stopped her with a gentle touch on her left elbow, a frown on his face when he spoke, just out of ear shot of the sailors. "I want you to go home, Aislin."

Her eyes flickered across his face for a moment, finally coming to rest on his eyes, blue with specks of green clustered nearer to his pupils. "I-I can't," Aislin stuttered, looking down at the toes of her shoes. "I could not help you when everything began to fall apart with Iris." The mention of the woman put a dangerous glint into his eyes, a very deep and old wound. "But, I seem to have the chance now, and I will not waste it." Aislin looked back up, a pleading look on her face.

He no longer looked angry, but Olgierd did not speak, his hand slowly dropping from Aislins elbow and back to his side. The moon had appeared through the clouds by now, lighting up the docks with an eerie atmosphere that seemed to make the shadows even more pronounced, but Olgierds face had softened a bit as he stared down at Aislin. He sighed after a moment and looked up to the night sky, crossing his arms over his chest and humming a familiar lullaby beneath his breath. Aislin looked up to the stretch of sky he was observing, the clouds speeding across the sky, but clearing to show the stars and the fat moon that hung in the sky; the light it bathed them in, it leeched the color from everything, making Olgierd seem like nothing but a ghost beside Aislin.

She was sure she did not look much better.

"I knew you would go with the Witcher when he arrived at the house," Olgierd admitted, still staring up at the sky when Aislin glanced at him. "I had thought, after you did not take the opportunity to go with Geralt and Vlodimir to the wedding, that you did not wish to involve yourself in the living anymore. I realized I was wrong when I heard you talking to him, running to Vlodimir's grave..."

Aislin had nothing to say, her hands clasped in front of her tightly and only clenching as she tried to figure out something, _anything_ , to say to Olgierd. What _was_ there to say to him, though? He had yet to explain anything to Aislin, so she felt no need to explain why she was here, she also felt no obligation to follow his wishes and go home. Perhaps it was the right choice, maybe she _should_ go home, go back to tending the graves as though no Witcher had showed up at her door and, in her mind, Olgierd was just as dead and gone as everyone else she had cared about.

"I should get inside," Aislin murmured, seeing the door to Shani's clinic open and the aforementioned red head peek outside. "She's looking for me."

Olgierd looked over at the clinic, saw the good doctor, and nodded in agreement. "Perhaps the Witcher is back."

Aislin went to look at Olgierd, but he was already walking away. "W-Wait!" Aislin took a few steps towards him, stopping when he did, swallowing thickly as he looked back and arched an eyebrow at her. "Where will we find you when it's all over?"

Aislin sighed wearily as Olgierd continued to walk away, but she did not watch him leave, she turned away and started walking towards Shani's clinic once again. Shani looked up from her papers when she heard Aislin shut the front door, a relieved smile breaking out on her face before she stood up from the kitchen table. Aislin busied herself with taking off her boots and scarf, the old coat she had worn, and Shani waited patiently before she started to ask questions; Aislin already had enough questions of her own.

"Where were you? I was starting to get worried that something had happened to you." Shani picked at the hem of her blouse seemingly without thought, catching Aislins eye - she was actually nervous. "Nothing happened, right?"

Aislin looked up at Shani's face then, still seated by the front door. "I got...a little turned around," she mumbled, giving Shani a reassuring smile. "I had some help getting back, just got a little lost in thought and wasn't paying attention." Aislin stood from her chair, looking around as Shani slowly made her way back to the kitchen table with a sigh of relief. "Geralt hasn't returned?"

Shani shook her head as she sat back down in her seat. "No, but I'm sure he'll let us know what he plans on doing in no time." Shani paused, watching Aislin give her own sad shake of her head, and then smiled softly at the tired woman. "Why don't you go upstairs and rest? I will wait up for Geralt." She gestured to the two, full, boxes of papers still on the table. "I still have a lot to go through here, anyway."

Aislin hesitated. "Are you sure?"

Shani nodded, picking up the parchment she had been looking at when Aislin had come inside. "Positive, you just get rested up. Should Geralt return while you are asleep, I'll wake you up."

Aislin smiled a little and nodded, silent as she climbed the stairs back to the bed she had escaped from earlier. She climbed beneath the sheets this time, sighing into the pillow as her eyelids grew heavy.

* * *

Vlodimir had stolen some hooch once.

He claimed that he and Olgierd had brewed it, but Aislin had known it was a lie even as she smiled and nodded, feigning her curiosity for a moment because no, she did _not_ want to drink any.

 _"Just a bit,"_ he had said, wagging the bottle in front of her face.

Aislin frowned deeply at Vlodimir, who snickered and took another deep swig of the hooch he cradled so gently in his hands. When Vlodimir had come and gotten her, Aislin expected they would be going to town - as he had promised - but instead, he had smuggled her into the windmill and produced the bottle of alcohol to share. It wasn't often Vlodimir was so insistent on Aislin drinking, but that could have been because Olgierd was nowhere to be seen, usually there and keeping his little brother in line.

"You know I don't really care for that harder stuff, Vlodimir." Aislin pushed the bottle away when he offered it again. "Where is Olgierd?"

Vlodimir frowned a little at that, but shrugged, taking a smaller sip of his drink this time. "Said he would be this way soon, he was talking to father about something with the land."

Aislin gave Vlodimir a sympathetic look, reaching out to place a reassuring hand onto his left shoulder from where she sat beside him. "Everything will be fine, I'm sure of it, Vlodimir." He shrugged at her reassurance, making Aislin bite her lip and then sigh in defeat; he knew the sound too, his demeanor immediately perking up as he lifted the bottle once more. "I'm just curious," she muttered, taking the bottle from him. 

It tasted as gross as she had thought, but Aislin managed to swallow what she had gotten out of the bottle, nose scrunching up as she shook her head; a chill had settled down her spine, to her toes Vlodimir chuckled and rubbed a small circle on the small of her back, taking his own sip with practiced ease. Aislin shook her head again, this time directed at Vlodimir in disdain for how well he handled the crudely brewed alcohol he had gotten his hands on. She shared Olgierds taste for wine, it never burned when she drank it, it never intoxicated her as quickly as whatever Vlodimir produced in a glass bottle when they hid away in the windmill.

"I still prefer wine," Aislin mumbled as she took the bottle he offered again, pleased to see that he was no longer sulking. "We can go down to the river, instead of being cooped up in this moldy, old windmill."

Vlodimir chuckled, clasping both hands around the bottle this time. "I like this moldy, old windmill. We've hid in here a lot, remember when we accidentally let the chickens out of Alma's coop? Mother sent Olgierd to fetch us to apologize and round them up."

Aislin chuckled and looked up to the ceiling, a pleasant smile on her face as her eyes flickered between the support beams, the little birds perched on them as they sang to each other. "I apologized until she tucked me into bed." 

That was still back when Aislin was terrified that the von Everec's would send her away, before she realized that they had become just as much her family as Alma was. It had only been a few years since then, but it seemed like so long ago, when they were children and Vlodimir was still the same height as her, drinking in the barn the _last_ thing on his mind at that age.

Aislin looked over when she realized Vlodimir was staring at her, a nervous giggle coming from her lips as her cheeks heated up slightly. She felt kind of dizzy when she looked away too fast, bracing one hand back against the crates they were sitting on in the very back of the windmill. 

"I hate that stuff," Aislin said, another nervous chuckle coming out when she realized he was still staring at her, only he was smiling so softly this time. "Makes my head spin after just a few sips...that's ridiculous."

Vlodimir gave a small chuckle to Aislin's pout, leaning a bit closer, his hand coming up just out of the corner of her eye to thread into the loose hair on the back of her head. When he pulled her into the kiss, Aislin had braced a hand against his shoulder, ready to push him away and break the kiss, but she just let her fingers linger against the fabric of his shirt. 

It wasn't until their lips parted, Vlodimir's eyes boring into her own, that Aislin realized that they had been bathed in light from the open door. Aislin's head snapped towards the door, jumping to her feet when she saw Olgierd standing there, his hand still on the doorknob. Vlodimir swallowed loudly behind Aislin, downing the rest of his drink and slowly setting the bottle down onto the floorboards beside his feet. As she opened her mouth to speak, Aislin felt the urge to cry when Olgierd turned around and walked back out, the door slamming itself shut behind him and causing both Aislin and Vlodimir to flinch.

Vlodimir had a helpless look on his face when Aislin turned to him, not daring to chase after her when she ran out the door, after Olgierd. He was halfway up the path to the manor when she did manage to catch up to him, Alma calling after her but going unheard because Aislin was solely focused on the still retreating form of Olgierd von Everec. When she managed to catch up to him, Olgierd stopped, as though he had sensed her hand reaching out for him, staring at that hand that lingered in the air between them as Aislin tried to wrack her brain for something to say.

"O-Olgierd I -"

"Go back, Aislin," his voice was steady and calm, facial expression unreadable even though Aislin tried to figure out just how angry he really was. "I have to speak to father about something, keep Vlodimir busy a bit longer, will you?"

Aislin's mouth gaped open for a moment, words just on the tip of her tongue, tears swelling in the corners of her eyes as Olgierd turned away.

* * *

Shani is not the one to wake Aislin from sleep, but Geralt instead.

The home is quiet, candles no longer lighting the downstairs, just the single candle Geralt set on the bedside table. "Shani fell asleep," Geralt explained as he watched Aislin sit up in bed, rubbing at her eyes as she was still groggy. 

"She tried staying up for you," Aislin mumbled, yawning into her hand. 

Geralt hummed, nodding and sitting on the edge of the bed when Aislin moved her legs. "She still has papers in her hands," he ended his sentence with a soft chuckle, a weary sigh soon after. "Olgierd is in the city."

Aislin mistakenly nodded, cringing when she remembered she had wanted to keep her run-in with Olgierd a secret for the moment, but Geralt seemed unfazed. "I uh...I went out for a walk." She cleared her throat, pulling her hair down, gently, from the ribbon she had it tied up with. "He walked me home. Did you know he was going to be in Oxenfurt?"

Geralt sighed, nodding. "I thought we would be out of here before he made it into the city, but seems we have a situation on our hands concerning Borsodi's house that requires us to stay longer." 

Aislin gave him a curious look, and he stood up gesturing for her to follow him silently. Aislin did so, careful with her footing through the darkness until Geralt had the front door open. The light pouring in gave Aislin a glimpse of Shani, slumped over the kitchen table and snoring softly, deep into her sleep with those papers still clenched tightly in her hand. Aislin shut the door silently behind them, wrapping her arms tightly around her middle as she watched Geralt begin to untie Roach from where he was tethered beside Sashi.

"We going somewhere?" Aislin took a few steps towards him, away from the door and more into the wind that was swirling outside. 

Geralt sighed as he dropped his hands to his sides, the reins of Roach's bridle clenched tightly in his right hand. "Borsodi's house is inside of the auction house vault," Geralt said, stepping closer, with Roach plodding slowly behind. "I ran into...someone, they want me to help in a heist to break into that vault."

Aislin snorted, brow furrowed as her hair whipped around her face. "You're...actually going to do it?"

Geralt shrugged. "Don't see much of a choice, had a pretty clear view of the building plans from the man I was approached by. Not simple to break into, says we need a team of people to help get in and take what we want. I was rounding up two of them, that's what took me so long to get back here. Got one more person to get, then we..." Another sigh from the Witcher, heavy and agitated. "Break into the vault."

Aislin nodded, eyes having drifted to the rising sun and the way it reflected colors across the surface of the moving water. "Think this is all worth it?" She questioned, very much aware of the look Geralt was giving her, but she kept herself facing the water. "I mean, you're not helping Olgierd out of the kindness of your heart, are you? It has something to do with Gaunter O'Dimm, and that mark on your face."

Aislin did look at Geralt now, her eyes running down the bright red scarring that adorned the left side of his face. She had seen the markings before, maybe not exactly the same, but close enough, in one of Olgierd's books before he had moved out of the manor. She had heard so much about Gaunter O'Dimm, this mysterious Man of Mirrors, and could only think of those days when Olgierd would shut himself away in his office, the smell of burning candles and bursts of light and red smoke leaking out from beneath that locked door. Olgierd had caused this, Aislin was sure of that, and had dragged Geralt the Witcher into his mess, now Aislin was here and unsure of what exactly to do except for tag along and ask Geralt questions.

"Yeah," Geralt finally admitted, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand, Roach lifting his head to nibble lightly at his masters right shoulder pad. 

Aislin nodded, kicking at pieces of loose stone that were scattered around them. "I need to know everything, Geralt." She gave him a pleading look, obviously tired and lost. 

Geralt inhaled deeply, releasing his breath with a heavy shake of his head. "I just picked up a contract," Geralt mumbled, sounding more like he was talking to himself than to Aislin. "I picked up a contract to take care of a monster in the sewers...and, somehow, it managed to drag you and Shani into a mess."

Aislin chuckled this time, snorting softly. "It's so weird, Olgierd dragging me into some sort of mess..." She sighed and looked up to the sky, the clouds that had begun to gather once more and darken the rising sun. "It was always _him_ getting Vlodimir and I out of whatever trouble his brother had gotten us into. Nothing bad, per say, but he was still never the one having a problem he needed help with."

"Well, he's gotten himself into quite the mess," Geralt huffed, climbing onto Roach's back. "I don't know exactly _who_ Gaunter O'Dimm is, but he seems anxious waiting for me to fulfill Olgierd's wishes and complete his end of this bargain of theirs."

Aislin looked up at Geralt. "Bargain?"

Geralt nodded, adjusting himself in the saddle. "That's what O'Dimm says, and Olgierd did not deny it. I will explain everything once I have finished gathering who I need to, should be back before sun down."

Aislin nodded. "I will wake Shani, and wait for you here."

Geralt gave her a short nod and dug his heels into Roach's sides, spurring the horse into a gentle trot towards the nearby gate leading out of Oxenfurt. Aislin let out a heavy sigh and turned around, locking the door to Shani's home once she was inside; Shani was no longer at the table, Aislin presumed she had climbed the stairs to her bedroom. Picking one of the many books lying about the room, Aislin found a seat at the kitchen table and lit a candle, busying herself with reading whatever book she had plucked from what Shani had on hand.

The silence was a reprieve for Aislin, something she could sink into easily, even if she was not in her own home. But there were no windows to open, her stove was not crackling with a fire beneath it, Sashi was not prancing about outside raising hell because she was tired of sitting in her pen. The sounds of the city had begun to encroach on the morning hours, the rumble of cart wheels passing by, sailors yawning their way to the docks for work, or simply to loiter about and watch others work. Shani did not stir, but Aislin could hear a subtle snore every now and again, giving Aislin a sort of comfort knowing she was not alone in such a strange and alien place. Curiosity had begun to arise in Aislin, and she wanted to go about the city, explore while they waited for Geralt, but wondered if Shani would be interested in such a thing.

"Dear Aislin," a voice broke the relative silence in the home, making Aislin's fingers tense up against the spine of the book in her hand. "I have just been _dying_ to meet you."

Aislin slowly looked up from her book, seeing a strange man leaning against Shani's stove, a pleased smile on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest. Aislin's eyes flickered to the door, seeing it still latched tightly, and then back to the stranger that had suddenly appeared before her. He was dressed in bright clothing, two satchels draped on either hip with scrolls peeking out from one of them.

"How did you get inside?" Aislin whispered, voice laced with fear and the need to _run._

The man chuckled, waving a hand through the air. "Never mind that, dear dreamer, I am not here to harm you. I simply wanted to... _talk_." He chuckled again, the noise soft but almost scary, in a way. "You seem to be quite the point of torment and hesitation for Olgierd von Everec, I could not resist seeing what the big deal was any longer."

Aislin swallowed down the lump that had formed in her throat, but it did nothing to ease the sense of dread his presence was instilling in her. "You... _You_ are Gaunter O'Dimm, the Man of Mirrors."

He smiled and gave a dramatic bow, twirling his right hand through the air, tucking the left against the small of his back. "At your service." There was an odd glint in his eye when he looked up, seeing the distrust in her eyes. "Why so serious, my dear? I have not come with malicious intent, I assure you."

Aislin shook her head and slowly closed the book, setting it down silently on top of the kitchen table. O'Dimm was keeping his distance, but the smirk on his lips seemed to be teasing Aislin, so close to pressing more and more. She hadn't expected to actually meet the man she had heard so little about, all she knew was his name, and the face did not match what she had imagined at all. From how Geralt spoke of him, she expected a more... _intimidating_ figure.

"Come now," O'Dimm broke the silence that had fallen between them. "Do you not have questions? _Curiosities_? I am more than willing to indulge such a kind woman. You deserve answers, and no one is giving them to you straight - I can provide those answers."

Aislin frowned. "You were the one that hurt Vlodimir."

He feigned a look of regret, Aislin could see through it so easily. "A regrettable incident, I assure you, but he was seeking to remain in Geralt's body and make away with him. I could not allow him that."

"Geralt did not mention that."

O'Dimm nodded, a sorrowful frown on his face. "I did not think he would, he knows how you feel about Vlodimir von Everec." Aislin tensed up again, her stomach twisting up into knots. "He did not want you to know just what Vlodimir had planned, to run away with the good doctor, Shani."

There was an undeniably painful twist in Aislin's gut, her head swimming the longer Gaunter O'Dimm stared at her from beneath his brow. "I-I don't believe you," she stuttered, standing up from her seat abruptly. "You should leave."

"Now, now," he tutted, taking a step closer to Aislin, and she was too frozen with unease to move away. "Please, I simply came here to give you the answers you have been trying to get from these people since they interrupted your peaceful life of loneliness."

Every other word from his mouth was fake, taunting her and her emotions; just what _was_ Gaunter O'Dimm? Was he a warlock? Or something worse? Aislin had zero doubts that Gaunter O'Dimm was something _much_ more dangerous than a mere man.

"Seems you are not as easy to manipulate as I originally thought," O'Dimm let out a chuckle at the end of his sentence, an undeniable gleam of mischief in his eyes. "Perhaps that is what Olgierd sees in you, hmm?" He takes another step closer, but Aislin had yet to gain control over her body. "Or perhaps it is just the need to take something that is not his? Sibling rivalry is still fresh and alive, even when Vlodimir is dead and departed."

The words stung, making Aislin physically flinch before she managed to take a step back from O'Dimm. "Don't talk about Vlodimir," her words had a bite to them, seemingly surprising O'Dimm, judging by the new look on his face. "You should leave. Please." Aislin kept her eyes down at the end, unable to look into his eyes any longer.

"Oh? Such manners, I see that the brothers and _their_ manners rubbed off on you. Not surprising." O'Dimm snorted in amusement as he stared down at Aislin, enjoying the way she twitched nervously beneath his gaze. "Hmm, very well." 

The brush of his knuckles against the side of her face made Aislin jerk away, a small cry coming from her lips as she stumbled back over her own chair and onto the floor. She heard O'Dimm chuckling but, when Aislin looked up through the sudden tears in her eyes, the Man of Mirrors was gone. Aislin stared up at the empty air, the soreness in her backside forgotten as she sat in disbelief, wondering if what she had experienced was just real or not. Was it a dream? A trick from her tired brain, clutching at the ends of her sanity?

"Aislin?! Is everything okay?" Shani had come down the stairs, still in her clothes from yesterday, even though they were ruffled and unkempt from her falling asleep in them. "Why are you on the floor? What happened?"

Aislin shook her head as Shani crouched down beside her, giving the space where O'Dimm had just been a disbelieving glance. "Th-There..." She raised her hand to point, but dropped it in favor of bracing both hands against the floor, groaning as she pushed herself to her feet. "There was..." Aislin shook her head and furrowed her brow, staring down at the floor. "I think I just met the man that...that caused everything that has happened." Her eyes drifted back up to Shani, seeing the confusion on the red heads face. "Gaunter O'Dimm...he..."

_He caused all of this._


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, yes, we will be going through Scenes From A Marriage, but it'll allll be over soon, I promise! Some parts of the in-game plot (i.e. encountering the professor) have been moved around, but I was far from liberal in my alterations to the plot lol

_Perhaps in a different universe  
_ _we would not meet so battleworn._

* * *

It is well into the next morning before Geralt returns, looking tired and ragged, out of his normal armor and in some black, leather get-up; there was a mask attached to his belt, but Shani didn't ask questions when she approached Geralt, she just told him one thing.

"Olgierd von Everec is inside my house."

Geralt immediately feels his hackles rise, grinding his teeth and preparing to go inside and give the man a piece of his mind - but Shani places a hand on his chest, stopping Geralt and giving him a slow shake of her head. Surprisingly, it took Geralt a moment to realize what Olgierd was there for, and noticed Aislin was nowhere to be seen - he came here to see _her._

"Give them their moment," Shani said, her voice so low it was almost a whisper, as she dropped her hand back to her side. "It seems as though they have been through allot."

Geralt stared at her for a moment, then looked to the door and huffed in his agitation, walking over to the stone railing in front of Shani's home and finding a seat on it. Shani joined him, hands folded in her lap and a patient look on her face as she stared at her front door. Whether or not Aislin and Olgierd _had_ been through allot (they had) it did not mean that Geralt was okay with the man having knowledge of where Shani lived; that could cause _more_ troubles.

"I'm sorry for dragging you into this, Shani." Geralt sighed, shaking his head softly and crossing his arms over his chest.

She shook her head again, this time smiling softly at Geralt. "You didn't _drag_ me into anything. Even so..." she sighed, her hands moving from her lap to grasp at the edge of the stone they sat on. "It is quite nerve wracking to have Olgierd von Everec inside of my home..."

"He didn't kick you out, did he?" Geralt's voice was a low rumble, eyes glaring daggers at the painted glass of her home.

Shani shook her head, looking back over at the door; they could both see the shadows cast against the glass, shuffling left and right, were they talking yet? "He asked me, very politely, if he could have a moment alone with Aislin." Shani bit her lip, giving Geralt side glances for a moment that he could clearly see. "Do you...know the history?"

Geralt shrugged, shaking his head softly as his eyes drifted down to the toes of his boots. "Seems complicated, rather not get into that mess."

A soft sigh, deprived of information Geralt only had guesses for; he truly did not see any positive side in getting that involved in Olgierd's past. The entire ordeal was far from what he expected to come of plucking that notice from the board outside of the city.

Geralt thought about taking Aislin back home, but knew that would probably make her put up a fight; it would be easier to get to her home and break the news to her, but what of Olgierd? What did Vlodimir think Aislins presence would change? Geralt was still stuck in the same predicament, but now he had an extra eye to keep out for some girl that had never left a plot of land. 

This was exactly why he didn't do favors for ghosts.

"Got a lead on some professor here in Oxenfurt," Geralt mumbled, looking over at Shani with an arched eyebrow. "Care to help me get to him and have a chat?"

Shani's eyes flickered between her front door and Geralt, finally nodding and pushing herself to her feet. "I don't think we would be missed."

* * *

Olgierd hums as he examines the books around the small home, not having spoke to Aislin even when he had asked Shani to give them a moment alone.

What did he want? The night she had seen him, he had left without even telling her where he would be staying in the city, but he is confident enough to approach Shani's front door? With no warning?

"Olgie -"

"Fascinating, seeing such a well educated woman _not_ being burned at the stake," Olgierd cut Aislin off, opening one of the books, eyes scanning over the medical jargon inside. "She is even deemed to be an asset to Radovid."

Aislin swallowed thickly, unsure of the what words to say. "Olgierd, why are you doing this?" She whispered, clutching her hands together against her chest, the fabric of her dress pinched between her fingers. "The other night...you act like you don't want to see me again and...and now you just show up, demanding a moment alone with me?"

She wanted to scream at him, _make up your mind!_ But how could she? Because he would look at her, with those sad and hollow eyes, and it made AIslin's heart twist to see such a look in his eyes. What happened to the vibrant speckles of green around his irises? Even the blue in his eyes seemed dull, nearly gray and _dead._

"Why do you look at me like that?" Olgierd whispered, snapping the book in his hand closed. 

Aislin shook her head slowly, lowering her hands from her chest. "What do you mean?"

"With such _pity_ ," he spat the word out, like it had left a bad taste in his mouth. "Since the fire, since that night..." He took a step closer, and Aislin stayed where she was, giving him those big does eyes that he remembered from their childhood. "All you ever do, when I see you, is give me that _look._ "

Aislin didn't understand what he meant, her mouth slightly open as she tried to find something to say in response; she had never been so out of words around him before, had never felt her skin heat up like it did, until recently. He had become a stranger to Aislin, one that seemed to only mimic the Olgierd she had once known, the Olgierd she had grown up with for most of her life, the Olgierd she had...the Olgierd she had _loved_.

How else was she _supposed_ to look at him?

"What did he do to you, Olgierd?" Aislin whispered, taking a step towards him. "What _is_ Gaunter O'Dimm? Is he a demon? What did you _do_ Olgierd?"

His face folded, slowly, into a look a regret and sorrow, his empty eyes only showing flickers of those emotions. What deal had he struck with Gaunter O'Dimm, how long ago was the deal made? Was it the reason for Iris? Was it...

Tears had begun to run down her cheeks before Aislin realized it, flinching away when Olgierd wiped one away gently with his thumb. "Don't..." Aislin swallowed thickly, a desperate look on her face, a question she didn't want to ask hanging on the tip of her tongue. "Olgierd...don't...please don't tell me what I think is true. _Please._ "

Her hands had reached forward, curling into the front of his robe and pulling herself a bit closer, on the tips of her toes and this pleading look in her eyes because _she knew_. She knew exactly what Olgierd had done, surely not on purpose, but he had done the unthinkable - _Vlodimir was dead because of him_. Olgierd just stared down at Aislin as she sobbed into his chest, tears soaking through to his skin quickly, and there were so many more to come; she could hardly breathe already, hiccuping and begging the Gods that she was wrong, just making _assumptions_. She had to be, assumptions were all she had to work with, her mind grasping at strands now, trying to make sense of this mess.

"I didn' know," Olgierd whispered, pulling a small whimper from Aislin, her teeth clenched as she tried to stop herself from crying so loudly. "I did not _know_."

He wasn't crying when Aislin looked up, but the look of sadness and grief was so palpable on his face that it caused Aislin's chest to swell with yet another sob, but this one she just swallowed down. His confession tumbled from his lips, every small detail, down to the things that made Aislin want to _vomit_ ; all the while, his eyes remained tightly shut, his chest trembling slightly, as though he were crying, but his eyes remained dry.

It all tumbled from his lips so easily, a confession nearly two decades old, an almost-answer to the many things that had went wrong. He told her of the debt, of the bar he found himself in, and the _evil_ he had drunkenly poured his sorrows out to, the evil that offered him a solution to all of his woes, with a simple question:

_"Your brother...or her."_

"Iris..." Olgierd ran a hand down his face. "She never knew a thing, doomed her without even _explaining_ maself."

Aislin blinked a few times, slowly uncoiling her fingers from his shirt, turning around and taking a few steps away from Olgierd. ""What do I do with this information?" She whispered, shaking her head softly and looking over at the kitchen table, her now-cold cup of tea having been forgotten when Olgierd had arrived. "Olgierd...by the Gods..."

"I don' expect ya to forigve me." She heard his soft steps behind her, coming closer until she felt his warmth against her back. "I...I know this is all my fault, but Aislin..." She felt his fingertips brush against her left shoulder, pulled away slightly and he sighed softly. "Aislin, the one thing I did not expect was for him to take my memories of you."

She thought about the implication for a moment, a thousand memories flooding her mind, all of them ending in Olgierd and Vlodimir, the mistakes she had made. As she slowly turned back to look at Olgierd, Aislin remembered the times Vlodimir had gotten Olgierd to help Aislin home, him being the one to keep her calm and all of those tender looks he had given her before Gaunter O'Dimm had stolen him from her.

But, when he kissed her, Aislin could no longer think of anything else; not O'Dimm, not the Witcher, Geralt, or many of the other things that had been making her question her entire life over the past two months.

It wasn't the first time Olgierd had kissed her, the night he had left was a weight on both of their shoulders for many years because of her, because of _Iris_. Aislin had convinced herself, to pacify some of the guilt, that it was simply that moment of grief, when Aislin was still so broken over Vlodimir, and Olgierd was losing the battle of his sanity, losing the love he had for his wife.

It was just an accident.

But this, this time was no accident. 

Olgierd pulled away and locked the front door, taking Aislin by the hand and pulling her to the stairs, to Shani's bed that was still unmade from the disruption of Shani's sleep by O'Dimm. Even though she did not push Olgierd away, let him sink her back into the mattress, make her feel bad about _where_ this was happening, but also, Aislin felt that familiar pang of guilt. 

Vlodimir would always be _the one_.

When Olgierd whispers her name, when she whispers his back in return and makes the right noises to follow, Aislin cannot help but think of whether or not Vlodimir would be okay with it or not. Would he be angry? Would he...Would he want her to move? Did he really like her lingering about, when he always told her that he wanted her to live a happy, and full, life? No regrets? A smile in the face of adversity, a brave heart no matter the obstacle ahead of her - Vlodimir had wanted Aislin to be _happy_.

_"Even if you to Skellige, if you are happy, I will be happy."_

They can hear the rattle of the front door downstairs, but Olgierd acts as though it does not exist, his hands against her skin and causing Aislins head to swim, her thoughts becoming more sluggish and unfocused. Aislin is sure there is a moment where the front door opens, where soft voices call her name, and most likely hear every sound coming from above them. 

It makes Aislin suddenly aware and self conscious, but Olgierd is an easy distraction when he smothers her quiet protests with feather-light kisses and soft, pleading words. There is no shame, though, when he unravels her and soft whimpers come from her lips, his calloused fingers roaming across her neck, the slope of her stomach and the sides of her thighs. Aislin can only think of Olgierd, only think of him and the way he feels, the way he makes her feel (sometimes) and suddenly...Aislin could see, somewhat, clearly.

* * *

Shani opens the front door to her home, nose slightly crinkling at the distinct smell in her home, leaving the door _open_ and moving to the double windows; she would have to burn something to cover the smell as the wind carried it out. Geralt followed in behind her, his nose crinkling as well, though Shani could only imagine just how strongly it smelt to him if _she_ could already smell it; there was a part of her put off by what had happened in her own home, but she did not linger on it long.

"I will wash the sheets twice," Shani mumbled, not truly upset, just inconvenienced. "When I said to let them have there moment, that was not what I expected."

Mid eye roll, Geralt spotted the piece of paper that was brushed off of the kitchen table by the breeze rolling through the home. He caught it as it was whisked across the floor, reading the scribbled handwriting carefully; it had to be Aislins, Geralt couldn't imagine an educated man like Olgierd writing like this. 

"She's gonna get herself killed," Geralt snapped, growling in frustration as he handed Shani the note when she reached for it.

" _I'm going to the estate to fetch the rose. They know me, I can get in easier. Please, let me do this, Geralt._ " Shani shook her head, giving Geralt a bewildered look as he nodded aggressively, arms crossed over his chest. "She _cannot_ be wrapped up in this, Geralt. You have to go."

"Obviously," he quipped, groaning and rubbing his hands up and down his face. "What the hell did he say to her?"

"I don't think he said anything to make her go, Geralt." Shani looked back down at the note, furrowing her brow slightly; she was confused. "The von Everec estate _itself_ has been abandoned for years." Shani looked up, her eyes roaming around the room as she shook her head. "Why did she say _they know me_?"

"I don't have an answer to any of that," Geralt walked outside, untying Roach once again; the horse had been nervous when Geralt and Shani had arrived back at her home, both of them easily realizing that Aislin was gone before they had opened the door - Sashi was gone. "I have to go, _now_. Who knows what she could get into with this situation, if Olgierd von Everec made a deal with a demon, then I know he has dabbled in dark magic. She could get hurt."

Shani nodded firmly as she watched Geralt haul himself onto Roach's back, the horse, pacing back and forth nervously; he was ready to go. "Be careful, Geralt. You have to come back when this is over."

Geralt nodded and pulled on the reins, turning Roach towards the Oxenfurt gate and digging his heels into his sides to put the horse into a full sprint. There were plenty of guards and civilians alike that yelled at Geralt as he ran past, but he had no patience for these people, no time to spare his horse because it didn't matter what abilities Aislin possessed, she was not meant to fight monsters should she cross paths with them. 

And Gaunter O'Dimm was an exceptional breed of monster.

The roads are clear as he pushes Roach towards the von Everec estate, the sun beginning to set in the horizon he was heading towards; the sky had been teasing a storm for days, and the lightning was beginning to flicker behind him, a clear sign of what was to come. The eerie silence in the air followed Geralt at every turn towards the von Everec estate, towards the old hut that was lit with candles from the inside.

Sashi has been carefully put into her pen, saddle slung across the fence, the reins on the ground beneath it. Sashi snickered and paced around her pen, tossing her head up and down as she watched Geralt approaching the home. Geralt jumps off of Roach, not bothering with tying him up, and rushes to the front door of the hut, swinging the door open and finding it completely empty. He curses underneath his breath and stalks outside, looking left and right, then up the road towards the vine covered front gate to the estate. 

Geralt grumbles and started walking up the path, hearing a mans voice that grew louder the closer Geralt got to the front gate of the manor. 

"Anyone there?!" There was a scruffy man standing on top of one (almost) leveled part of the surrounding wall of the estate, looking around frantically. "Kendrick... _Kendrick?!_ "

"Not so loud."

The man yelped when Geralt approached him from behind, making a dramatic gesture as he waved his arms about and spun around, nearly falling off of the wall he was standing on. "Agh! Ya scared me!"

Geralt grumbled. "I said _not so loud._ " He crossed his arms over his chest, jerking his chin towards the fog that blanketed every inch of the inner grounds. "Fog is unnatural, could be some type of creature making it, foglet, for example."

The man's eyes widened, flickering back to the fog, sweat on his brow even more prominent. "F-foglets? Ah, Sweet Mother Melitele, why'd I ever come 'ere?" 

"Good question, what _are_ you doing here?"

The man hesitated still, but sighed. "We figured...saw that the lady that tends the place was gone, know the manor is abandoned, all those valuables inside gatherin' dust..." At Geralt's obviously judgmental look, the man stuttered and seemed to begin to sweat, more so than he had been, anyway. "Kendrick went to open the door, I was ta keep watch. Heard his lamp break. Haven' heard from em since, been callin'."

Geralt sighed and took a step forward, lowering his arms and climbing up onto the wall beside the thief, narrowing his eyes as he searched the fog for any signs of life; had Aislin made it in? If so, she must have already been inside, if she had not ran into thieves yet.

Geralt gave a small grunt when he heard the unmistakable sound of sturdy metal being dragged across stone, seeing the faint outline of a hulking figure slowly making it's way around the back of the manor. The thief stuttered behind Geralt, rushing off and leaving a trail of _best of luck to ya_ behind before Geralt had even told him to leave. 

He sighed as he dropped down from the wall, looking up at the towering manor of the von Everecs; it was perhaps impressive, before the mold and vines had taken over, the rot in the wood of the roof showing gaping holes in some places. The grounds had mostly become ravaged by weeds and dead grass, but there were patches of colorful blooms - such as though in the nearby village of Brunwich - scattered about, showing the odd signs of life. The fog weaved itself between all of this, Swirling around his ankles as he came to stand in front of the colorful blooms.

"Someone is still tending to the flowerbeds," Geralt muttered, looking over at the patches he had not seen from a distance. "But no violet rose." He sighed heavily moving to the foot of the stairs that led up to the front door. "How am I supposed to find Aislin in here, let alone the rose?"

There was fresh manure, and signs that the earth had been tilled and prepared for new seeds; had Aislin been doing this, it did not seem like she had step foot inside the gate in years, though. There was a well worn bench beside a fountain with water as cold as ice, making Geralt grow more curious, as it showed no signs of rot or decay, something, he expected, but he was more concerned about other things than a bench at the moment. 

"Woods rotted completely," Geralt muttered as he examined the empty easel that, honestly, surprised him by remaining standing after showing such wear and tear. 

He circled around the leafless tree at the center of the small pavilion, stepping over the thick roots that had outgrown their stone boundaries. There was a marble statue of an angel to his right, covered in grime from going unattended for who knows how long; why did Aislin never set foot in the estate? She never mentioned coming inside, always the crypt, it seemed to be the only part of the estate that she acknowledged.

"No violet rose here, either. Maybe somewhere in the back?" Geralt let out a heavy sigh, his mind trying to piece together too much at once; he had almost forgotten about the missing thief. "The other thief mentioned his buddy was going to open the front door," Geralt muttered, descending the steps and making his way towards the aforementioned doors. 

As he drew closer, Geralt could smell the oil from the busted lamp the other thief had mentioned, finding it in front of the carved, double doors of the manor. There was also a strong smell of copper, some other acrid smell that nearly burned Geralt's nose hairs as he drew closer to the front door.

"A busted lamp...and the ground's trampled." Geralt examined the large imprints of cleated boots, leading back around the back of the manor. "Something was dragged through here," he mumbled, following the tracks for a few steps. "A body?"

The drag marks had streaks of blood through them, smelling distinctly human, the streaks turning into _puddles_ as Geralt drew closer to the gate leading into the back of the home. There was an archway to the right on the other side of the gate, a stone wall leading into the the thicker fog towards an unknown end of the estate grounds. It was silent on the other side of the gate, not even the wind was howling, no noises from the distance penetrating the silence; though, there _was_ a ringing beginning deep in Geralt's ears., .from the utter silence that hung in the fog around him

He pushed open the gate, now noticing the cat staring at him with bright, glowing eyes. It's tail twitched back and forth at the type, its gaze curious and _judging_ ; "Run along kitty," Geralt rumbled, watching it cock its head softly and then stand, tail swishing back and forth; Aislin had not mentioned any animals. "This is no place -"

Geralt stopped when he heard that grating noise again, the heavy sound of metal against stone, something being dragged by that figure he had seen earlier. He narrowed his eyes into the fog, giving the cat a side glance, and saw it was patiently waiting for him to make his move. As Geralt walked forward, his eyes drifted to where the cat had been as it meowed softly, seeing the lock picking kit, presumably belonging to the other thief; Geralt knew the man was dead, just had to figure out what exactly had disposed of him.

"What have you _done_ , Bartholomew?" It was Aislin, somewhere deeper into the fog, sounding as though she were pleading for an answer to that question, but there was none given.

Geralt looked over to the smaller fencing that was lined with bushes, taking a few steps towards the corner, and seeing a way into a separate garden down the path to his right. But Geralt stayed where he was, curious as to who Aislin was talking to - could it be that creature that Geralt had seen? It could have such a human name? Geralt had not been able to get a good look at it, but whatever that figure had been, it most _definitely_ was not human.

Geralt took a few soft steps forward, peering over a dip in the hedges and seeing the small figure of Aislin standing on the steps of some sort of pavilion; the back garden was large, and she was surprisingly far away from him. There was a figure Geralt could see, but only the back of it peeking around the other side of a carved, stone pillar. It was shuffling around with something, making Aislin shake her head, visibly trembling even from where Geralt stood and he could not stop himself from walking towards the entrance into the garden. 

As Geralt drew closer, still unnoticed by Aislin for the moment, Geralt saw that tall figure push itself to its feet, giving Geralt the full picture. It wore a hooded, black robe that stopped at its ankle, the bottom hem, and the hem of its sleeves, tattered and worn, coated in dust and grime; it had a shovel in hand, digging up large clumps of dirt for a grave, Geralt suspected. Its breathing grew louder as Geralt approached, this horrible ragged sound that seemed to rattle inside of the creatures chest each time it heaved another load of dirt from the hole it was digging.

When Aislin did finally notice Geralt, her expression turned from scared, to desperate, her arms waving back and forth and warning him to stay away. But Geralt had no intentions, brow furrowing as he moved closer and closer, still unnoticed by the monster. Aislin had backed up slightly, her eyes flickering between Geralt and the back of the creature, her breath coming out in quick pants as she panicked, but she has yet to speak to Geralt.

"What is that _thing,_ Aislin?" The figure noticed him now, as Geralt spied the unmarked graves lying on either side of him; so much death. "Hey! Ugly!" Geralt pulled out his sword, eyes lingering on the mutilated corpse of the other thief. "Who are you?"

The figure slowly turned to Geralt, Aislin covering her mouth with her hands as it pulled back its hood, revealing the monstrosity underneath. Its face had been stripped of eyes and a nose, its mouth nothing but a small slit reveling gnarled teeth that parted to release a guttural growl as it reached for the large, sharp ax lying on the ground beside it.

Aislin shook her head and dropped her hands, running past Geralt, towards the estate and out of sight around the corner.

Geralt twirled his sword, sinking back into a defensive stance at the monster roared at him, swinging the ax over its head, as though it weighed nothing, barely missing Geralt as he rolled to the right. As he sprung up to his feet again, Geralt cast Quen, the magical barrier sending a shimmer veil of gold across his body before he dodged the monsters next attack. As its weapon came down, it wedged into the ground and Geralt took the opportunity to charge, taking a swing at the creature - _Bartholomew_ \- while it tried to pull the ax from the ground. 

Bartholomew seemed unfazed by the first two swings, though their sliced through his coat and skin, leaving deep welts that seeped thick, dark blood. On the third swing, as it wrenched the ax from the ground, it let out an angry roar and swung the ax backwards. Geralt grunted as the weapon made contact against the arm he had raised, shattering his shield and sending Geralt flying.

Geralt was grateful, he realized, that the thing had launched him backwards because, in its fit of rage, the monster showed Geralt a taste of its powers. The ground beneath Bartholomew has begun to glow white, and a soft blue, with pillars of energy bursting from the ground and sending debris raining down on Geralt in the aftermath. He cast Quen again, bracing for the monsters charge and ducking beneath it, dashing to the left and slicing his sword into the creatures side. It roared again, the light shimmering across the ground once more, and Geralt jumped backwards as the blast erupted again, sending a wave of ice cold air over Geralt; it seeped in through his armor, and sent chills up his left arm. The creature turned to Geralt and snarled, charging him again, swinging its ax down and giving Geralt another opportunity as it tried to pull the heavy weapon from the ground. Geralt slashed at the creature, managing to draw plenty of wounds across its splotchy, wet skin, but it only seemed to be enraging the creature more.

Geralt skipped back a few steps, in a defensive stance as he watched the creature careful, curious as to why it was suddenly moving so slowly, and its breathing had grown ragged and deeper. The light had begun to glow around it again, but this time it seemed to be seeping from him, surprising Geralt with a sudden black of thick, gray fog that made Geralt gag; it burned his eyes, causing them to water as he tried to keep focused on the creature. A soft blue glow emanated from its weapon as the monsters chest heaved, shadowed figures emerging from the ground silently, faceless heads all turned towards Geralt before Bartholomew let out a horrendous roar.

It swung around in a flurry as the fog continued to ripple and obscure Geralt's vision, making it hard to fend off both the shadows, and Bartholomew. The figures, though numerous, were easily dispatched in once swing of his sword, but dodging Bartholomew's swings was draining his stamina, Quen becoming weaker each time he desperately cast it. 

As Geralt was blasted back from Bartholomew yet again, landed back against the stairs and having the wind briefly knocked from his lungs, he watched as more figures emerged from the ground. He raised his sword as one appeared out of the corner of his eyes, but Geralt quickly realized that they had not been trying to attack him - they had been attacking _Bartholomew_.

The creature was swinging at them violently, but there was no end, and Geralt narrowed his eyes, the tired dogs in his brain formulating a plan. He pushed himself to his feet again, taking a deep breath before he cat Quen once more, feeling slightly vitalized by the shield that rippled across his figure. He charged at Bartholomew once more, casting Igni directly into its face, smirking at it wailed and stumbled backwards. Its robes were still lit with flames as it caused the ground to erupt again, its swings becoming more and more desperate, blood following behind him in a thick trail now.

As Geralt lunged once more, he stumbled back as another blast of the thick, dark fog came from Bartholomew's feet, the air clearing slowly, and the shadows disappearing along with the fog. There was a moment where Geralt could only dodge and try to take his shot, missing more times than he cared for, but this fight was becoming long, and Geralt was running out of stamina surprisingly. Whatever this creature was, it was powerful, and one he would hate to encounter regularly in his line of work; though, it was not the hardest enemy he had fought, so far. 

Before Geralt knew it, the shadows had been summoned again, but Geralt took the moment to fall back and reach for the flask of Swallow on his hip. As Bartholomew took his rage out on the endless wave of shadowed figures, Geralt caught his breath, feeling himself regaining a bit of vigor as the potion worked its magic. Geralt rolled his shoulder and flexed his fingers around the hilt of his sword, charging Bartholomew for what he hoped was the last time. The figures turned to smoke as Geralt ran through them, driving his sword deep into Bartholomew's back. The creature roared, arching its back as Geralt pressed his boot against its hip and wrenched the sword from its sternum. Blood spattered across the ground, dripping from Geralt's sword as he hopped back and dodged the heavy swing of its weapon. It was beginning to stumble, feet slipping in it's own blood, and its body becoming weak from the vitality loss.

Geralt growled as he charged forward, driving his sword into Bartholomew's chest, receiving a spatter of blood from the creatures mouth. The ground beneath its feet erupted then, sending Geralt flying backwards, shattering his shield and sending his silver sword tumbling off into the bushes. Geralt groaned when he hit the ground on his back, one eye squeezed shut as he propped himself up, hearing Bartholomew moaning in pain. It was swinging its mighty weapon back and forth, though there were no more shadows near it, no reason to attack, as its skin began to crack and an ominous, green light began to pour through.

Geralt slowly got to his feet, leaning down to pick up his sword as Bartholomew stumbled forward, slamming the head of its ax to the ground, leaning onto the handle for support until it collapsed to its knees. Geralt approached with caution, sword still drawn as he watched to monster begin to tremble, the light growing more intense as pieces of it began to flake off and disintegrate in the breeze that had softly begun to blow around them. It clutched at its chest as it began to fall apart, desperately reaching forward to crawl away, to escape its fate, before it collapsed to the ground and was gone completely.

"What the fuck was that?" Geralt shook his head. "No eyes, no nostrils," his voice trembled with exhaustion. "Damn thing had no right to be alive."

He looked up when he heard soft pats against the stone, seeing the cat from before slowly approaching him; it was as though it had a pleased smile on its face. "Well..." a soft, echoing, female voice came from the cat, though its lips barely moved. "Philosophers still debate what it means to be _alive_ , exactly."

Geralt was unfazed as he watched a black dog approach from behind him, walking past his left and coming to sit beside the cat, eyes as curious as its companions had been before. "Normally, I'd be shocked, but...not after what I just saw. Who are you two?"

"Clearly not animals," the cat said. "Think of us as...friends of the house."

Geralt looked over his shoulder when he heard approaching footsteps, seeing Aislin coming around the corner, a terrified look on her face as she surveyed the damage. Relief washed over her face when she saw Geralt was unharmed, jogging to close the gap between them and she shook her head fiercely, clasping both hands together against her chest.

"You should have just stayed away," Aislin said, huffing as she gave him the most desperate look he had seen her give so far. "I _told_ you to stay away."

Before Geralt could open his mouth to speak, the cat had piped up again. "It has been a long time, ma'am."

Aislin's eyes immediately latched onto the cat and the dog, who were staring at her with patient eyes. "I told you, you can call me Aislin." Her eyes darted away from the creatures, fists tight at her sides.

"We prefer ma'am."

Geralt shook his head, drawing everyone's attention as he sheathed his sword. "What was that creature, Aislin?"

She swallowed thickly, shaking her and walking over to the steps to sit down. "I called him Bartholomew." She looked as though she had a heavy weight on her back, hunching forward and sighing heavily, tired.

" _We_ called him the Caretaker," the dog finally spoke, shuffling its feet slightly. 

"Doesn't look like any creature I've ever seen," Geralt mumbled. "Where'd it come from?"

"From very far away," the cat said softly, standing to move closer and sit beside Aislin's feet, its tail curling around its feet. "He was summoned to guard Lady Iris, and the home. He tended the garden, took care of unwanted guests."

Geralt furrowed his brow and crouched down onto one knee as the dog moved to Aislin's other side, sitting and staring at Geralt once more. " _Very far away_ \- meaning where, exactly?"

"The name of this place would mean naught to you," Aislin finally spoke, her voice a soft whispered, eyes closed as she leaned her head into her left hand. 

"You couldn't have warned me about these two?" Geralt gestured to the cat and the dog. "To any of this? Why the pretense that they're animals? Why didn't you say anything?"

Aislin lifted her head, sighing. "I know nothing of their origins or any of that, I just know _of_ them. We met one time, briefly, before Iris..." Aislin stopped, eyes drifting up towards the sky as thunder crackled overhead. "I can take you to the rose," she mumbled, her eyes coming back down to bore into Geralt's. "I can show you exactly what happened in this house, Geralt."

"Ma'am, do you think that would be wise," the dog asked, turning its gaze towards Aislin, though she kept her eyes on Geralt, ignoring the dog.

"We...We both deserve answers, do we not?" Aislin stood, brushing off the dust from her dress, though it did little to help. "She is still in the master chambers, is,'t she?" Aislin whispered, turning her head towards the cat, but not directly looking at her.

The cat looked up at Aislin, tail uncurling from its feet and tapping against the ground. "Yes, ma'am." The title made Aislin cringe.

"Why do you wish to see her?" The dog stood, slowly walking past Geralt.

Geralt sighed and turned around, following the dog as it walked towards the back door of the manor. "I'm here to get the violet rose Olgierd von Everec gave Iris just before he left."

Geralt's words put a bad taste in Aislins mouth, but she remained quiet as Geralt pulled vague answers from the pair of animals until they stopped and sat on either side of the back door. Patient eyes landed on Aislin, who sighed as she produced the key from her apron; always there, beside the key to the crypt, never out of reach. She stepped past Geralt and unlocked the door, hand slightly shaking as she pushed it open and a flurry of dust came out, causing Aislin to flinch. 

"Can you do this?"

Aislin tensed up, looking over her shoulder to Geralt, who had an odd look on his face. "Y-Yes," she muttered, looking into the cobweb infested home she had once loved. "It's...just hard."

Aislin took a deep breath though, inhaling the smell of old, rotting wood that had tumbled down from the ceiling, old soot that clung to the massive fireplace in front of her. The cobwebs rustled as air seeped in from the outside, a crack of thunder and a flash of lighting causing Aislin to jump, stumbling forward before Geralt caught her with a firm grip on her right elbow. 

Aislin opened her mouth to thank him, but there was a sudden chill, Geralt had felt it as well. " _Leave_ ," the familiar voice whispered into their ears, as though she were right over their shoulders. " _Leave, before it's too late_!"

Geralt saw how Aislin clenched her fists at her sides, inhaling deeply, exhaling slowly through her mouth and willing her feet to pick past the cobwebs and the empty jars that were littered across the floor; there were baskets of supplies everywhere in the small room, most having tumbled to the floor and spilled their contents long ago. He wondered, briefly, just how warm this home had been before everything had fallen apart, how many happy memories died here when Olgierd von Everec doomed everyone around him with that selfish wish of his?

Aislin took a right, leading Geralt into the ruins of a massive library, books littering the shelves, paintings knocked askew along the walls, many of both scattered across the floor, just like those jars. 

As Aislin crossed the threshold, Geralt followed blindly behind her with his eyes flickering across the contents of the small room, bumping into her as she stopped in her tracks. Geralt grunted as he ran into her, opening his mouth to apologize, then ask her why she had stopped so suddenly, but he saw the puffs of dust that occasionally came up from the floor, moving closer and closer to the pristine painting against the wall across the room. There was a curtain of webbing that draped down in front of it, hanging from the collapsing walkway above, but even at that distance, Geralt could not see a speck of dust on the painting. 

"What the hell," Geralt murmured, stepping in front of Aislin, bracing an arm out in front of her as the cloud of dust rose from the floor, in front of the painting.

The painting had begun to ripple as the dust settled in front of it, a deep green light emitting from it, mimicking the surface of moonlit water. Geralt backed up, forcing Aislin to take a few steps back of her own into the wall, both of them watching at the light from the painting had grown intense, a wretched howling coming from it as skeletal fingers reached out to grasp the frame on both sides.

What emerged was a true horror, making Aislin gasp and cover her mouth with her hands, staring into the hollow eyes of the specter. The cry that came from it was shrill and terrifying, reminding Aislin of the cries of a grieving woman, giving her this chill that settled against the skin down the sides of her legs. Its head waved back and forth, the cries slowly fading when the creature slowly submerged itself in the painting once more. 

"Need to be careful," Geralt said once the creature was gone, the painting back to normal.

Aislin had stepped closer to Geralt, but pulled back now, her stomach still in nervous knots while Geralt seemed at ease, stepping forward into the room and towards the mess that had accumulated in front of the large fireplace. There was a candelabra on the end of the table not crushed beneath debris, the old wicks coming to life as Geralt snapped his fingers and illuminated the room - it was a library.

Aislin took a few cautious steps forward, her eyes lingering on the painting before they arched across the ceiling, her bottom lip ground gently between her teeth as Aislin looked over the ghosts of her memories. She had not set foot inside the manor since _before_ Vlodimirs death, since their mother and father had passed away. The rooms had been so filled with warmth, candles lit at every turn, fireplaces crackling with fresh wood; she had spent many hours in the library with both boys, sitting in on a few of their lessons with their mother, learning what she could.

"We used to spend hours in here," Aislin murmured as she paced around the room, hands clasped in front of her, head shaking back and forth slowly as Geralt watched her. "Of the few things Vlodimir continued to enjoy from his childhood, he maintained a love for reading." She reached out as she stepped closer to one of the bookcases, running hesitant fingers over the dusty spines. "Olgierd too, they forever had a taste for fine art, keeping that nobility for all to see." She sighed heavily and dropped her hand, closing her eyes as she leaned her head back. "It never ceases to amaze me, seeing how drastically things can change around you, in such a short time."

Geralt hummed in agreement as his eyes lingered on the dusty sketchbook illuminated by the lit candles, reaching for it, only to lurch backwards as several cushions and more sturdier objects, such as a chair, came flying towards the sketchbook, as though drawn to it. Aislin stumbled back a bit, her heart giving a painful jolt in her chest at being startled like she had been, even after things had settled and the room had become eerily quiet once again.

Geralt and Aislin exchanged a wary glance, both shaking their heads as they looked away from each other; Geralt had opened the sketchbook, eyes running over every detail on the pages he flipped through. Aislin was curious as to what sketches lie inside, or could their be secret messages? She knew better than to peek though, to pry into the personal machinations of someones minds, especially _hers_. There was a heavy sigh from Geralt, though, even as he kept the sketchbook clenched in his right hand, shaking his head at Aislin when he knew she had questions.

Aislin accepted his silent _not now_ , turning around and walking towards the open double doors that led into a wide hallway, another doorway seen on the other side. There was a warm light coming from the hallway, revealed to be the lit chandelier as it swayed and came tumbling down from the ceiling when its chain snapped. Geralt pulled Aislin back, their eyes wide as the chandelier crashed to the ground, candles tumbling from their holders and losing their flames. There was still light coming from the next room, though it was only sourced from a single candelabrum, but Aislin would prefer that over total darkness.

" _Leave, before its too late_!" They could hear her again, as clear as day, a light, cold breath across their shoulders, a mournful plea.

"What happened here?" Geralt's voice was soft behind Aislin as she ventured into the next room, barely hearing him over the sound of her own heart pounding in her ears. 

The table in the center of the room was lit, keeping the shadows at the edge of the large room at bay as Aislin leaned against the old wood of the table, listening to it groan beneath her weight. The table was clean and neat, set as though dinner would be arriving any moment, surprising considering the state of the room; Geralt wondered if it was that abomination in the garden that kept this table so pristine. Aislin rocked back and forth against the table for a moment, having lifted her head to look around the room as well, seemingly just as confused as Geralt was.

"It did not seem like so much time had passed," Aislin whispered as she sunk into the nearest chair, her eyes wet with tears. "How did I let so much...slip past me?"

Aislin buried her face into her hands, and Geralt hesitated, unsure of what to do, so he just let her softly weep for a moment, his eyes flickering about the room and landing on the stair case, where he could hear the soft creaking of the boards leading up; there was also the faint sound of a woman breathing, rapidly, as though she were panicking. Geralt thought, for a moment, that it was Aislin, but knew that such a soft and ghostly noise was not coming from the young woman in front of him. 

Aislin slowly looked up as an unmistakable, pained moan echoed from somewhere deep inside the manor, sending chills along her skin the longer it lingered, making Aislin dizzy. "The thing from the painting," she mumbled, sniffling and wiping at the tears on her face before she pushed herself back to her feet. 

Geralt hummed his agreement, looking at the table once more. "Tidy, and everything's clean, ready for a meal to be served."

Aislin furrowed her brow. "It must have been Bartholomew."

Geralt gave a snort, finally breaking his tense demeanor. "You gave him that name?"

Aislin hesitated and nodded. "He only killed those that broke into the estate to rob it," she muttered. "No one had given him a proper name, it seemed fitting to me."

"It was a monster."

"He never harmed _me_." Aislin dug her finger into her chest. 

Geralt arched an eyebrow at her, raising his hands in defense. "I won't say it again."

Aislins eyes seemed to be searching into his, looking for something, but Geralt was unsure just what she could be looking for. She sighed after a moment, merely jumping this time when the chairs were knocked back from the table by some force. Geralt curled his lip at the act, eyes flickering around the room as the moaning echoed around them, followed by a weak whimper.

He watched Aislin approached the fireplace, silent as she moved what she could away from the fireplace, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. "There's still wood," Aislin mumbled, then looked back at Geralt. "Can you light this?"

Geralt nodded, crossing the room as thunder rumbled outside, bringing Aislins attention to the ceiling, where many of the boards were close to falling on their heads, When the fire was lit, she stared into the flames and, slowly, the trembling in her body stopped and she had colors to her cheeks once more; Geralt did not feel the chill in the air. Her hands ran up and down her arms slowly, her attention slowly roaming between the different corners of the room, the books on the landing that was inaccessible, the dinner table that was set, the faded paintings hiding in the shadows.

"What happened here, Aislin?" Geralt repeated his inquiry from earlier, staring into the fire as well.

Aislin did not speak for a long time, staring blankly into the fire and, no doubt, reliving memories brought about by such a simple question. "There was a fire," she said, blinking a few times, to hide the tear that had settled in the outer corner of her right eye.

"Before that," Geralt grumbled. "There was more than a fire, why won't you give me the truth? What _exactly_ did Olgierd do here to turn this place into such a..." Geralt crinkled his nose, angrily crossing his arms over his chest. " _Sad_ place?"

Aislin was shaking her head when Geralt looked over at her, cheeks already wet with tears as she looked away. "Please," her voice cracked. "Please, Geralt..."

"You said you would show me what happened," he reminded her, turning to face her fully. "Did you forget?"

"No," she whispered, taking in a shaky breath, releasing it. "I _will_ show you, not tell you. I do not want to just...tell you a story, I want to paint a picture." She inhaled deeply. "I want you to...to _know_ the von Everecs, and how happy they were, and why Olgierd still deserves our help, even with the monstrosities he has committed."

Geralt sighed as she turned and walked away from him, back into the center hallway. She was standing at a painting beside the stairs, left hand curling into her dress and her eyes flickering across the face in the painting; she looked as she did from the moment Geralt had met her, the embodiment of mourning. Geralt wondered how Olgierd had deserved so much of her blind devotion, it was no secret as to why she felt such a way towards Vlodimir - he had saved her life - but what exactly had his older brother done to garner Aislins attention?

"Olgierd as I've never known him," Geralt murmured as he approached Aislins side, pulling a barely noticeable jump from her. 

Aislin released a heavy sigh, unknotting her fingers from her dress. "Different man, then," she murmured, stepping closer to Geralt as they heard the voice again, only this time it was as though it were _screaming_ somewhere in the manor. "What _is_ that?"

Geralt shook his head as he looked around, hearing the garbled cries for help; she sounded like she was drowning. "Never experienced anything like this, whatever spirit lingers here is _very_ angry."

Angry was not the word he wanted to use, but Geralt could not find the words to explain the atmosphere of this place. Even at the outskirts of the land, there was this metaphorical cloud that hung over the von Everec estate, who knew it ran inside and out? He was sure there were no darker forces at work here than a spirit of some kind, were it purely the work of Gaunter O'Dimm, Geralt was sure it would be far less pleasant than this - and it was already pushing it.

"We should not linger here too long," Aislin murmured, turning around and walking over to the bottom of the stair case; one side of it had already collapsed. "The master chambers are up here."

Geralt nodded and followed behind Aislin, narrowing his eyes softly at the rain he saw through the busted glass windows before the loud wailing suddenly pierced their ears. Geralt caught Aislin as she tumbled back down the stairs, thrown back by a blast of air at the top floor. Geralt looked up, seeing another painting at the top of of the flight of stairs, the specter from before trying to claw its way out as it let out those bone-chilling cries.

"She's trying to stop us," Aislin muttered, shaky on her feet as Geralt balanced her once again. "Nearly broke my neck."

Geralt hummed in agreement, carefully watching Aislin until she was no longer shaking and her breathing was more steady. "You should go wait for me outside, I can handle it from here."

Aislin shook her head and ignored Geralt, climbing back up the stairs as she had been before. That crying could be heard again, the faint drone of a man somewhere alongside it, angry and as garbled as the other voice. Geralt was telling the truth when he said he had never experienced something like this before - nothing that was not a side effect of a creatures venom, or any other concoction that caused hallucinations. But this was no hallucination, nothing had been inhaled, no liquids consumed or brushed against the skin, and they were hearing the same thing, at the same time.

So he followed Aislin.

But following her was slow, seeing the paintings from her childhood gathering dust, like the one of a smiling child that was leaning against the wall among a nest of webs. Geralt assumed it was her, judging by the familiar eyes and facial structure he saw on the child, but the one hanging on the wall to it's left was what caught Aislin full attention.

It was Olgierd, with a raven haired woman smiling at him as though he were the sun, her hands tucked into her lap and his hands reaching for her shoulders as he stood over her. Olgierd von Everec and his Iris, what a happy couple they seemed, until O'Dimm had preyed upon Olgierd in his grief; could they have had a long, happy life, had they never crossed path's?

"I remember when they had this painted," Aislin muttered, frowning deeply as she reached out to touch the painting. "It was before their wedding, a gift from a friend in Novigrad." Her fingers left a trail through the dust, fingers lingering on the bottom of the frame before she dropped her arm to her side once again. "This was after...whatever Olgierd did."

Geralt said nothing, not wanting to feed into her assumptions, but he knew she was most likely right. 

The door to the left of the painting was open, revealing a room that showed the signs of that fire Aislin had mentioned. The ceiling had partially caved in, letting the rain begin to pour in from those clouds Geralt had seen on his way to the estate. There were piles of mush on the rotting desk that Geralt assumed had been parchment, an impressive deer skull having it's antler snapped off by the fallen debris on top of it; bet it was cozy, in this little office.

Aislin had stepped into the rain, across the room next to an open door that led to a balcony, but she had reached down for the faded painting that had been lying on its side against the wall. It was her, granted she was much younger in the painting, but Geralt was interested in the softer expression and the less-empty eyes of the girl in the painting; she looked happy. She had become family to these people, and had never left them once they had taken her in; had she ever thought of a life beyond the von Everec family? With her condition, she had probably never even thought of a single one of them dying, even the elderly woman that had taken her in.

"Iris had gifted me a painting, once," Aislin muttered, setting the painting down gently and stepping out onto the balcony that had thankfully withstood the test of time. "I never unwrapped it."

"Still sitting in your house?" He had seen many things stacked into a side room in her home, among them something wrapped and painting-shaped.

Aislin nodded and led Geralt down the length of the balcony, to another door that led into a smaller bedroom, double doors at the other side creaking open on their own. Aislin stared at them, her face blank and fingers twitching at her sides, but where Geralt expected her to run, she steeled herself and walked towards the doors. The lit hallway on the other side was nearly untouched, fresh candles and foods laid out, but the encroaching cobwebs were beginning to show themselves in the far corner.

Aislin opened her mouth to speak as the candles throughout the room went out, her legs becoming wobbly as darkness shrouded her and Geralt, whatever words she had been going to say dying on her lips. She reached out for him as she heard his sword unsheathe, finding little purchase in the many folds of his armor, but there was light again and Aislin wanted nothing more than to flee.

But either way she looked, Aislin saw that the hallway spiraled off into nothingness at both ends, the specter from before materializing before them in the center of the room.

"Try to stay clear," Geralt said to Aislin, knowing there was little he could do to keep her out of the way of this fight.

Aislin nodded and backed herself against the wall to their left, eyes squeezed shut as the figure let out a terrifying, shrill cry, charging at Geralt. Aislin was sure to keep her distance, hesitating to leave the amber light of the candles and step into the fading, white light emanating from the candles that lined the hallway into the illusion. She stumbled into one of the tables against the wall, trying to avoid being caught in the spell Geralt had cast to slow the creature down, his sword drawing ashes instead of blood, that raised up to the ceiling and disintegrated. 

The specter turned for Aislin as one of the paintings opened into a portal, the creature flailing its limbs about before it began to swoop in towards Aislin, the latter frozen in fear on the other side of the room. The being was no familiar to Aislin, but as her eyes grazed over the fabric that covered its body, knowing that pattern all too well, and the jewelry that graced its neck, Aislin knew just what had happened, why Iris had stopped speaking to her.

"Iris," Aislin whispered as the specter shrieked and collided with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We (CananaBananalism and I) have a big announcement at the end of the next chapter, so stay tuned!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannot apologize enough for my absence, the holidays were really time consuming for me between family and work, so writing had to be put on the back burner unfortunately. This chapter is REALLY long, so be prepared lol 
> 
> Side note: the beginning, up until the first line break, is a flashback. Want to avoid confusion where possible.
> 
> And just the BIGGEST shoutout to vonpankratzdelettenhove1 whose comments just 🔥🔥🔥🔥

_And I would call us forgiveness,  
_ _and not remember us as war._

* * *

" _Iris Bilewitz._ "

She was a very easy woman to get along with.

When Aislin had met her, she was cautious, feeling (honestly) inferior to the raven haired beauty, with a penchant for the paints that stained her fingers; her skin was porcelain, texture of her hands nearly flawless were it not for the callouses where her paintbrush had rested for many years. She looked good on Olgierd's arm, a smile always on their faces when Aislin would see them in the garden, or walking down to the village just to buy flowers for Iris' pigments. Olgierd had been so lonely, it seemed, for a very long time, and it filled the estate with a renewed atmosphere in the wake of Mr. and Mrs. von Everecs passing.

"I would love to paint you," the first words from Iris' mouth, and she had made Aislin blush, give a hesitant reply.

"I-I don't think I'm really...painting material."

Vlodimir had chuckled, thrown an arm over Aislins shoulders, bringing a soft smile to Iris' face; everything about Iris, so far, was graceful, even that smile. "Aislin is just modest, mother had her painted years ago, when she was a child, and you should see it outside of fathers office!" He pinched at Aislins cheeks, making her blush even more pronounced, and causing Olgierd to scold him into stopping. "But she was adorable! Smaller than your average nine year old, father said, but she seems just the right size to me."

"You're embarrassing her, Vlodimir," Iris said, shaking her head as a teasing smile played on her face. "You _never_ tease a lady."

Vlodimir frowned, but the smile was back on his face quickly, the moment forgotten and the next already forming in his mind. The days were good after that, a new life had bloomed at their home and Aislin felt comfortable once again, she felt like things could be normal - that they _would_ always be together, the three of them, with Iris a welcome inclusion. 

Until things had changed, until Aislin had woken up in a cold sweat and Olgierd was standing in the kitchen beside Alma, who already had tears in her eyes, sinking into the crows feet in the corners of her eyes. Vlodimirs death had been the decline, when Olgierd had started to become distant and Iris was coming to Aislin in fear, her eyes constantly bloodshot from crying.

"He gets so mad, so easily now." Iris always looked tired, but that night, a week before the fire, she had looked particularly hollow. "Aislin, I don't know what's wrong with Olgierd."

Aislin remembered just staring at her, watching Iris break down into tears in the middle of her kitchen; Alma was not there, and Aislin wished she had been instead of tending to the chickens, Aislin was never good with emotional comfort. Vlodimir was the one Aislin was able to comfort, she knew him too well, even Olgierd was a small mystery until he had shown himself with soot up to his elbows. 

Could she had changed things back then, if she had known?

Could she had prevented it all, if she had just stopped Olgierd from leaving that night, when she had the chance?

Perhaps not, because there was no such things as faith, and Aislin knew...Gaunter O'Dimm would have claimed Olgierd no matter what.

* * *

Geralt was lost in the maze of Iris' painted world, heart hammering every second he did not take a turn and see Aislin. Had those spiders gotten her? The ones that Geralt had to cut down? Or was it the shadow creatures, perhaps the ones that looked like Olgierd? The entire place was a madhouse, one thing after another that made Geralt want to leave and be done with this place before he was swallowed in too deeply, but he was getting every answer he had been searching for - and more.

Olgierd had really damned the people he had cared about most, in a vain attempt to restore his family's glory in the need of love. Would Olgierd had never met Iris, would he have doomed his brother in the first place? Would he have had his heart turned to stone, forgetting about one of the people he seemed to still carry a tenderness for? 

Would Geralt be stuck in this fucking painted world?

Probably, knowing his luck.

He had fought wraiths and spiders, witnessed the famed fire of the von Everec estate and it all made Geralt more insistent on finding Aislin - was she even in this world though? When the wraith had turned it's attention to Aislin, Geralt had assumed it meant to kill the girl, but it had dragged her into one of the paintings instead. It was a race since then, to find Aislin, and the rose, and get out of the painted world as quickly as possible.

What dangers could she have run into? Had one of these delusions made Aislin a victim?

No...No, Aislin was upstairs with Iris von Everec, standing on a balcony and overlooking the world Iris' grief and denial had conjured, breathed life into. There was no wind in this world, but the trees trembled and shook with a breeze, Aislin's hair lifting slightly off of her shoulders as she stood beside Iris at the railing, fingers gripping the blurry wood with enough force to turn her knuckles white.

Geralt stayed at a distance, remaining the doorway to the room that the balcony was attached to; had they already noticed him? His steps had creaked on the floorboards, the doorknob had rattled quite violently when he opened that door, but neither of the women had seemed to notice Geralt - if they did, neither made it known.

" _Why_ did you bring me here, Iris?" Aislin let go of the balcony and dropped her hands to her side; she flexed her fingers slowly, to relieve the sharp pinches of pain that radiated through her fingers.

Iris did not speak, she did not move, she continued to stare out across the imagined grounds of the von Everec estate - Aislin's hut was a beacon outside of the gates, the only thing seen in a wasteland of fog that threatened to swallow this dream whole.

Aislin had never imagined what was going on inside of the estate behind her hut, she had only ever concerned herself with the crypt. When Olgierd had left all those years ago, Iris had never visited Aislin again, the young woman had not even seen the mysterious woman after that night; no silhouette on the balcony, no soft humming when she painted in the gardens, no candles lit in the windows to show Aislin that she was still there...

Iris Bilewitz had not been there for a long time.

Aislin had seen exactly what Geralt had, forced to make her way through nearly the same trials - only Aislin had not fought a thing. 

She had dusted up the spiders from the attic, she had soothed the angry manifestation of Olgierd that plagued Iris' fear. Why had no one told her the extent of what had happened here? Why did she have to see all that she had never wanted to witness from Olgierd and Iris' marriage?

"Iris," Aislin's voice was soft, her head shaking back and forth as she stared at the side of the aforementioned woman's face, those eyes like empty glass. "Why won't you speak to me? Why did you bring me here? What is the point in all of this?"

iris still did not speak, but she did finally move, tilting her head down to look at the violet rose delicately balanced between her pale fingers. Of course this was the rose that Olgierd had asked for Geralt to retrieve, it looked untouched, the same as it did the day Olgierd had clipped it from Aislin's garden. A deep violent, with a red tinge at the edge of the petals, the same as when Olgierd had taken the sheers to the bloom.

" _Cann't get the blasted things ta grow_ _in the garden_ ," he had griped as Aislin wrapped his finger, the shallow prick to his skin a reward from the small bush. 

The bush had only bore one rose, the one in Iris' very hands.

"I had thought you were a dream," Iris whispered, voice as unique and elegant as Aislin had remembered; it still gave her a chill. "You did not exist in this dream, just...just that house." Iris looked up again, at that very shack at the edge. "You never came to the gate."

Aislin furrowed her brow, following Iris' gaze to the shadowy figure that was walking towards the estate, with a long skirt and tendrils of hair that lifted slightly off of it's shoulders. It was her, Aislin assumed, as she watched the figure turn and walk around the estate, where the crypt would be.

"I knew you were gone," Aislin admitted, looking over to Iris as the woman turned to look at her as well. "The manor was so quiet after Olgierd left." She saw the way Iris clenched her fingers, her eyes crinkling slightly as though she could cry. "The dreams afterwards were... _vivid_ , whenever I would dream inside of the crypt. You were already apart of this world before I realized it."

Iris kept a placid face as she looked at Aislin, as though she were unable to process the words coming from Aislin's mouth. How long had she been gone, lost to this painted world and guarded by her own angry spirit, cut off from time and reality? How long had she been watching Aislin tend to the grounds? How long had she gone ignored?

"I need the rose, Iris," Aislin whispered, extending a hand that shook slightly. 

Iris looked down at the rose, closing her eyes after a moment before she lowered her hands, the rose still clenched gently in one hand. "I don't want to suffer any longer..." her voice was soft, echoing and broken. "but I fear there will be cold and darkness, until...there is nothing at all."

Geralt knew he had been noticed by Aislin, quite aware of the side glance she gave him, a look that quickly retreated back to Iris. Unsure whether to intervene or not, Geralt remained on the far side of that room, arms crossed firmly over his chest as he watched the women interact. It was as though Aislin were afraid of Iris, with her shaking hands and unsteady eyes, the hesitance in her voice when she spoke to her; 

Geralt was sure there were many more secrets that Aislin was keeping to herself, ones she would share with no one but the man she was risking her life for.

"I need the rose," her voice was still meek, her hand still outstretched and patient. "Will you give it to me?"

Iris caressed the petals with a dainty touch, as though she were afraid it would shatter upon contact. "It's so fragile," her voice had a deeper echo to it this time, more sorrowful. "Look, the petal edges have turned crimson. As they were on the day I received it."

"I know," Aislin had a choke to her voice, a swell in her throat that made it hard to speak.

"The one thing missing is the single drop of dew which slid down the leaf when I took the rose in hand." Iris frowned immediately after her words, fingers clenching tighter around the stem, hand trembling softly beneath the petals. "Or was it blood - because I'd pricked my finger?" _Just like him, always him._ "I can't remember."

She turned away and approached the doorway to the bedroom, staring over at Geralt with a patient gaze, one that relayed so much grief - just like Aislin. Both women held different expressions, but their eyes remained drowning in sorrow and grief, this sadness that nearly suffocated Geralt - the von Everec boys certainly left marks on the world.

"You know," Iris started as Geralt began to approach them. "I never did read the letter from Olgierd. I didn't have to." She looked up at Geralt, a small frown on her lips - her eyes shadowed in smeared makeup. "And I needn't have kept the flower he left me."

Iris looked down at the rose, once again softly stroking the petals, lost in her own mind that swirled with a chaos of sadness, grief and melancholy. Aislin moved closer to Geralt, swallowing loudly as they both watched Iris with patient, waiting gazes; everything leading up to this moment was in anticipation for this, the final act, the final wish.

And it was all up to Iris Bilewitz.

"I've come to a decision," Iris finally spoke, looking up at Aislin and giving her a small smile, one that was both genuine, and fake. "I shall give you the rose."

Aislin felt as though something burst in her chest, a gust of air coming out between her lips in a rush of relief. Iris held up the rose, eyes locked firmly on the soft, plump petals and dark green, thorn coated stem. Before Aislin could take it however, there was a faint tendril of smoke that curled from the corner of her left eye, looking over to see the dog and cat appear, their glowing eyes still as ominous as they were before Aislin had ended up in this world.

"Our service thus ends," the cat said, tail curling around her feet as she sat beside the dog. "Thank you, ma'am, for freeing us."

Aislin gave her a hesitant nod of the head, her fingers instinctively curling around the stem of the rose as she watched the dog stand. "Before we go," he said, approaching Aislin and looking up at her. "some advice - beware of the one called the Man of Glass." He sat down, his face conveying a level of caution that he should not be able to show with that form. "Stand in his way, and you'll meet a fate worse than death. Seek salvation in glass that can't be broken."

Aislin furrowed her brow, looking over to Geralt when he gave a hearty grunt. "Glass that can't be broken?"

The dog looked at Geralt, then back to Aislin, before it stood and turned around towards the railing, disappearing into a cloud of black smoke. 

"So long," the cat said, before disappearing into the same cloud.

Aislin stared at that spot for a long moment, giving Geralt a concerned look before he shook his head and looked back to Iris - now was not the time to discuss everything. "I'll remember you, Iris von Everec."

"As will I," Aislin said, nodding her head softly.

Iris gave them a smile, her eyes no longer filled with an overwhelming sense of loss and sadness. "That no longer matters." She reached out to Aislin, placing her cold fingers against Aislin's left cheek - it felt like the cool caress of winter air. "Farewell, little dreamer."

Aislin leaned into that touch as Iris pulled away, a small tear slipping down her cheek as Iris passed between her and Geralt; she tried to wipe it away before Geralt saw, but it was a fleeting hope. As she looked around, Iris saw the way that the world had instantly begun to fall apart, strokes of paint peeling from every surface and floating towards a sky that was not there; harsh light came from the other side.

Geralt took her hand then, pulling Aislin behind him and back through the maze of the painted world. Every surface had begun to decay, right down to the floors that lit up beneath their feet, the soles of their shoes helping to peel away every stroke of paint in their path. Aislin did not let go of neither Geralt's hand or the rose, clenching both tightly in her hands as she looked over her shoulder to the world that fell apart around her.

She saw the silhouette of Iris Bilewitz on the balcony, before Geralt pulled her through the painting and back into the real world.

* * *

Aislin hadn't said a word after they were back on real ground.

She had been so silent, Geralt had almost been concerned that she was hurt, or worse, but she was on her feet and walking. " _I just need some sleep_."

So he had let her sleep, while he watch outside of her hut with the horses. Geralt had refrained from lighting any torches, one candle was keeping the inside of Aislin's home lit, and that was more than enough; Geralt could see just fine in the dark anyway. They were far from the city, so there was nothing but darkness outside, and predators thrived in the dark.

Both Roach and Sashi were asleep, heads draped over the fence to be side by side, the same leg cocked to keep their weight balanced as they slept. Geralt was certainly tired, but he could rest once this deal was done - how was he supposed to sleep with a burning reminder on his face at all times? Sure, he could have probably gone to Yen or Triss for help, but his pride said no, and he did not want them to be dragged into the line of sight for the Man of Glass.

Geralt sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before he tilted his eyes back up to the dark sky. No rain, yet, but the clouds were swollen and ominous; the possibility of a downpour heavy in the air. Or would it be delayed yet again?

There was a loud clatter inside, having Geralt on his feet in a moment and inside, hand reaching for his sword that was resting against the door frame. There were no monsters or assassins, just Aislin relying on the door frame to her bedroom to keep her on her feet, hair sticking to her sweaty forehead; her eyes were hazy, like she weren't really there, like she was looking straight through him.

"He's coming," her voice was soft, but there was something else about it, like Iris in the painted world. " _He's coming!_ " She rasped, reaching for him, and would have most likely have fallen on her face had Geralt not reached out and caught her, sword falling forgotten to the floor with a loud clang.

Steadying her, he took a hold of her shoulders, shaking gently but insistently as he stared into vacant eyes "Get a hold of yourself," he grumbled, frowning when Aislin shook her head violently, desperation lining her features. " _Who_ is coming, huh?"

Her lips trembled, mouth parted with the words poised on her tongue, but nothing came out. Instead, Aislin just shook her head, the color coming back to her irises as she looked back and forth at the hands that held her. Her expression was lost, as though she did not know where she was, and as though she were confused as to why Geralt was even touching her in the first place.

Silence stretched out between them; heavy in the air and taught as the thread on a weaver's loom. "Gaunter O'Dimm," Aislin finally whispered, looking around the hut and pointing to one of the kitchen chairs. "H-He was here, he..." She trembled as Geralt helped her lower herself down into the chair, his eyes boring down on her, waiting for her explanation. "He..." Aislin curled her arms around her stomach, face pale and clammy. "Geralt, I don't know what he did, but he was _here_."

Geralt watched Aislin as she shook her head, rocking back and forth slightly in her chair - she never should have been dragged into this. He should not have let her sucker him in with her words, should have scolded Vlodimir when he had told Aislin to go on this stupid crusade of hers... _his_. Was there any reason in trying to talk some sense into her now, though?

He wanted to ask about O'Dimm, ask about what she saw or whatever had happened to put her into such state; she looked sickly, almost. Geralt sighed and sat heavily in the chair across from her, unsure how to console Aislin - physical comfort was out of the question, so he simply offered his presence, as they both waiting for the trembling in her body to subside. There was a soft chatter between her teeth, her hands running up and down her arms in an effort to comfort herself and qualm the shaking, but it did little in either respect.

"What happened?" It was a long, bated breath before Geralt spoke, only after she had lowered her hands to her lap and her teeth stopped chattering. "Was he in here?"

"I-I don't know," Aislin mumbled, brushing her bangs back from her forehead. "I _saw_ him...I-I _felt_ _him_ , but he was all wrong, nothing like what I saw at Shani's and he-he was taunting Olgierd -"

"Saw him _where_?"

Aislin looked up from where her gaze had been firmly fixed on the table, resting her eyes of Geralt's utterly furious expression. "I knew you would be mad," she mumbled, shying back as he sucked in a breath through his teeth.. "It was only a moment, he didn't do anything...Shani was asleep, he never even came close to me." A lie, she knew that, but what Geralt didn't know couldn't hurt him. she had been burning a hole into with her gaze

"Why didn't you tell me?" He narrowed his eyes at Aislin, one hand curled into a fist on the table top. "He is dangerous, you should have told me. He could have hurt you, _and_ Shani."

Aislin shook her head. "I could have kept Shani safe."

Geralt was the one to shake his head this time, standing up from the table and retrieving his sword before sliding it into the scabbard across his back. Best to keep it close in case O'Dimm decided to pay another visit. "It isn't just about her, Aislin, this is about keeping the both of you safe. You should have just stayed here in your home and let me handle this."

Aislin felt her cheeks flush a little. "Why do you believe that I would be safe here? Alone? O'Dimm knew about me, he would have come to me whether I was at Shani's, or tucked away out here in the middle of nowhere without you even close to protecting me."

"Olgierd von Everec doesn't deserve this kind of loyalty out of you, you know that, right?"

His words cut right into her core, twisting her heart and pulling a physical jolt out of her body. Who was he to make such a judgement? She had seen it in his eyes since he had left her at Shani's, Aislin had seen the way he looked at her, knew every single thought he had just by the look on his face.

"Ever since Vlodimir found me..." Aislin stood, trying her best to keep the tears at bay, one hand curling into a fist on the table, her knuckles scraping against the wood. "All I have done is hide behind him, or Olgierd..." She shook her head and looked back down, and looked back down to her toes. "Olgierd was _always_ watching out for Vlodimir and I, always cleaning up our mess we left behind and I -" her voice broke at the end, her mouth dry. "They were my protectors," she whispered. "I just want to be able to finally return the favor."

Geralt frowned at Aislin, shaking his head as he turned and grabbed the straps to his swords. "Go back to sleep, we're leaving in the morning."

"Why don't you just say what it is you want to?" Aislin said, standing from her chair and curling her fists once again at her sides; Geralt just stared at her, door open and letting a draft in, enough to lift her hair. "I see it...in your eyes, that judgement you seem so sure of."

"Want me to tell you that it's stupid to martyr yourself for this guy?" Geralt arched an eyebrow, his expression far more calm than his words sounded. "Want me to say a bunch of mean things that will hurt your feelings, because I can." Geralt shook his head softly. "But I won't, because this is hardly the situation for it."

Aislin watched Geralt leave, hands curled into tight fists, enough that she felt the tips of her nails prick at the skin of her palms and cause them to sting. She bit her trembling lip and wiped a stray tear that dared to try and run down her cheek, her eyes wandering around the small room and she felt a sense of comfort in the action, enough to slightly calm her before she felt the need to follow Geralt and make an ass of herself.

Aislin could hardly think of sleep, brewing tea with the fresh leaves that Shani had left on top of her satchel that morning; had Shani known? Unsure of how long she had been asleep, Aislin stared out the window to her backyard, trying to find the moon, but it was blocked by thick clouds. It could not have been long, Aislin doubted she would have slept through an entire day and not noticed.

" _Seek salvation in glass that can't be broken._ " Aislin had heard the dogs words in her dream, echoed softly beneath O'Dimms taunting rhetoric. 

What did that even mean? A riddle, surely, but something tangible and real, something creatures like the cat and dog would see reason in, not some fantastical dilemma that would puzzle them until the last minute. Was it something in her possession, or would she have to seek it out inside the manor now that it was cleansed, in a way? Gaunter O'Dimm was not a straight forward man, from his riddles, down to his very demeanor, everything was a shroud, something for him to hide behind, something he wants to make impossible for anyone to be able to figure about - he wants to be an enigma.

Aislin is jolted from her thoughts by a powerful strike of lightning, a faint drizzle she had not noticed accompanying it long enough to have her windowsill spattered in droplets. She looked over her shoulder when the front door opened, a damp Geralt grumbling his way into the house with his swords once again shed from his shoulder and in his right hand, grasped by the sturdy shoulder straps.

"Thought I told you to get more sleep," he scolded without even looking at Aislin, aware of her steady gaze. 

Aislin looked back out the window, watching the clouds illuminate from within, a deep rumble of thunder accompanying the light show. "I am afraid to sleep," she told him, an honest answer, as she set her cup down on the kitchen table and went to close the delicate glass shutters. "You put the horses up?" She knew he had.

Geralt mumbled a yes, working at the buckles to his armored shoulders, a soft sigh coming from his lips when the straps loosened and the padding slumped slightly on his shoulders. "Yours tried to escape, had to man handle her a bit."

Aislin chuckled and picked up her tea once again, sipping at it slowly; it was beginning to get cold. "Vlodimir gave me to her."

Geralt gave a small snort. "Is there anything he didn't give you?"

She chuckled again, smiling softly at the ripples in her drink. "Plenty, but this one...well, he didn't really give her to me, but he knew no one else would take her." Aislin inhaled deeply, both hands clasped around her cup. "One of their fathers bad investments, ran into a bad mare that only bred runts. Sashi was the only one that made it to adulthood, the others were too weak to survive."

"A fighter."

"In every little thing she does."

Both Aislin and Geralt chuckled that time, the former shaking her head as she thought of her beautiful, stubborn mare as a clumsy, loud foal; she had never thought she would be able to keep Sashi, a living relic from a childhood that seemed a millennium ago. Aislin was interested in Geralt's childhood then, questions she refused to vocalize stuck in her throat as she watched him slowly undoing the rest of his buckles, until he had shed the upper leather of his armor and was sitting there in a cotton shirt and trousers. 

"What?" His golden eyes shifted up to meet with Aislins, making her look away quickly.

"Sorry," she mumbled as she stood, empty cup in hand. "I was just...thinking." She looked over her shoulder at him when she stopped in front of the wood fed stove. "Would you like some tea? You don't seem the type to like the stuff -"

"But, asking is polite," Geralt cut her off, his expression relaxed, but tired. "No, thank you though."

Aislin blinked at him a few times, confused by her own reaction - why was she so surprised to hear him say that? Perhaps it was because he had been rather rough and curt with her so far, Aislin also knew she had some sort of bias after hearing so many tales of how mean and cruel Witchers could be - but Geralt hadn't been cruel or violent towards her.

Then again, she had only known Geralt for a few days.

"Seems nice"," Geralt said, breaking the silence that had come between them as Aislin prepared the tea.

"Hmm?" She hummed, crouching down to feed more twigs and sticks into the fire. 

"Living out here, away from the bullshit of the city."

Aislin shrugged. "I prefer solitude," she said, sitting back down in the chair across from Geralt, eyes lingering over one of the deep scars she could see peeking out from beneath his shirt collar. "It does get lonely, but I find ways to keep myself busy." She lifted a hand to pick at a loose splinter of wood on the table top. "I always wanted to live in the city, so boring out here in the middle of nowhere," she paused to chuckle. "Best conversation you can get is with the cattle, maybe Sashi if she's in the mood."

Geralt snorted, an amused smile on his face when Aislin looked up. "Pleased at yourself with that joke?"

She nodded and stood, walking over to the boiling tea pot. "Storm may last awhile,"Aislin mused, looking to the back window and watching the lightning flash outside. "Looks like we're waiting it out."

Geralt hummed in agreement, the both of them falling into a comfortable silence as they waited through the storm, Geralt busying himself with drying his armor and cleaning his swords, Aislin fiddling with whatever was within reach to occupy herself. The thunder outside maintained a steady, deep rumble as the night dragged on, the downpour drowning out all other sounds; Aislin idly thought about the horses, hoping the storm had not upset them too much. Geralt seemed to have the same thought when he announced he was trekking outside to check on Roach, leaving Aislin alone for what would be only moments.

But it was enough time, apparently. 

"I wonder if Olgierd would be pleased to see you weathering the storm with our dear Witcher."

A painful chill ran down Aislins spine, and she dropped the jar of peach preserves she had been preparing to open, the sticky substance covering her feet in its ooze. Gaunter O'Dimm was there again, leaning against the door frame of Aislins bed room, a pleased smile on his face as he watched Aislin tremble.

" _Aislin, I don't know what's wrong with Olgierd._ "

All because of -

" _You._ " Aislin clenched her frail fingers into fists at her sides, still aware of the broken glass on her feet, but more concerned with the being in front of her; the being that enjoyed tearing her life to pieces. "Why are you here?"

O'Dimm hummed, eyes flickering to the door, awaiting Geralt's return, before his eyes flashed on Aislin yet again. "Your spirit is commendable, but I must agree with Geralt, you should not continue to martyr yourself for Olgierd von Everec - he is undeserving of someone as rare as you."

Aislin took a step back when O'Dimm pushed off of the frame, his smile false and his hands, though splayed and visibly empty, were deadly weapons at his sides. How did he think he could lull her into a false sense of security? Win her trust? Make her treat him as anything other than what he truly was - _a monster_.

His smile curled up at the ends, showing her a bit of that side she knew lurked just beneath the surface. "Are you afraid of me, my dear?"

Aislin shook her head, teeth grinding together for a moment and a half, her fingers flexing slowly at her sides. This was a rage Aislin had never felt before, for the first time she was hesitating to release her - weak - powers against him, try to make him hurt for what he had taken from her. 

"I want to kill you," she mumbled, almost enraged to tears. "I don't care if you are an unfeeling creature, but why? Why did it have to be him?"

O'Dimm chuckled, moving his hands to the small of his back and holding them there. "Olgierd von Everec sought to make a deal," O'Dimm said, gesturing to himself. "I am a merchant, I am always interested in the best of trades. Olgierd offered something I...simply could not turn away from."

"You ruined _everything_ ," Aislin snarled at O'Dimm, oblivious to the silence outside - the storm was gone? "You killed Vlodimir..." She shook her head slowly, eyes wide and almost manic as she gazed at the smiling demon. "You took away my future."

O'Dimm shook his head, stepping around the mess Aislin had made with the preserves, and she found herself unable to move, no matter how close he got to her. She closed her eyes when he brushed his knuckles against her cheek, his touch as cold as ice and he smelt of death, like those dreams where Vlodimir died once again. The chuckle that radiated out from his chest was unsettling, full of ill intentions, his touch lingering down her jaw and to her throat. Her eyes opened when his fingers wrapped around her throat, a pleased smile on his face as he flexed such a gentle touch on the expanse of delicate flesh that prickled with chills.

"It's not your fault," he said, voice low, breath washing over Aislins face and rustling her hair. "Olgierd keeps so many secrets from you...and I am sure this one would just crush you." O'Dimm tsked and rubbed his thumb in circles against the underside of her jaw. "But if he wants a girl like you...he will have to be honest, I suppose he was waiting for this contract to be broken."

Aislin couldn't speak, she was stuck staring into his eyes, overwhelmed and drowning in them, screaming out for Geralt in her mind. Where was he? Had O'Dimm done something to him? Had he killed Geralt as well...no, no Geralt was a Witcher, he knew how to handle a being like this.

But Aislin did not.

"Would you like to know that secret, little dove?" O'Dimm drew closer, his smile sickening to look at. "Do you want to know what Olgierd has dreaded admitting to you all these years?" 

_No_.

"I gave Olgierd a simple choice..." O'Dimm pulled away slightly, his teeth showing behind his smile. "His brother...or Iris...and he chose her."

Aislin screamed at the flash of lightning outside, the thunder shaking her small hut as O'Dimm vanished before her eyes. Geralt swung the door open as Aislin sunk down to the floor, her knees stinging as glass dug in, but Aislin was lost in her grief once again, Geralt's voice muffled in the background.

* * *

Aislin waits outside of the city for Geralt, tilting her chin up to let the strong winds wash over her.

The rain had cleared by morning, and Aislin felt up for travel not too long afterwards. Geralt hadn't tried to question Aislin about what happened when he had come inside, undoubtedly knowing O'Dimm was the cause of her distressed and despondent state; Aislin hated her regression, but the demons words had been lingering in the back of her mind the entire journey back to the city.

She should have at least seen if Shani was home, thanked her for the tea, made idle conversation while she waited for Geralt to return. But what if O'Dimm paid another visit while she was in the company of the good doctor? And Aislin also doubted that she would be any good for conversation anyway, she could hardly form words when she was alone right now, how could she hope to keep up with Shani?

No, no Aislin was just fine waiting in the fields with the horses, listening to them graze on the tall grass from the rock she had found to sit on. The sun warmed her skin, but the heat made her cuts itch beneath the bandages on her knees; Geralt had wrapped them, unable to get any response from Aislin for the first hour after O'Dimm had left. He had wanted her to stay in her shack, but what would that evil thing had done if she had been completely alone?

"You seem a little lost in thought." Shani's voice made Aislin jump, the latter not noticing the woman approaching from her right. "What happened to your legs?"

Aislin looked down at the loose bandages, her bare feet brushing through the grass. "There was...a problem at my home," Aislin said, smiling softly at Shani. "But it's fine now, Geralt patched me up."

"I can see," there was a tone to Shani's voice, something Aislin was not used to having directed at herself - that small bit of _resentment_. "Geralt told me you were outside the gate waiting, why didn't you come in?"

 _Honestly?_ "I just...don't think I would be good conversation today."

Shani chuckled, adjusting the scarf she had wrapped around her neck; it was certainly cool enough outside to be wearing it, Aislin was unsure of where her scarf now rested. "You could have just come in to be out of this weather." Shani sighed, smiling at the horses. "But I suppose they wouldn't be able to munch on such fine grass if they were waiting on hard cobblestone."

Aislin chuckled and nodded, watching Sashi lift her head and shake, the sunlight going through her mane in small beams. Shani approached Roach to stroke a gentle path down the front of his face, lulling the horse into sleep after awhile; the moment was peaceful, the kind of moment Aislin had been wanting since this whole ordeal began. She could hear the children being released from whatever school they had in the small village nearby, could hear the washer women gossiping at the riverside behind her and Shani.

"Did...Did something happen?" Shani's voice was soft, but Aislin heard it clearly. "N-Not personal or anything," she frowned at her own words when she turned around the face Aislin. "I don't know, Geralt just seemed upset, in a way."

Aislin's lips parted, her dry skin cracking in the effort, but she bit her tongue and refrained from saying anything too damning. "There was a problem," she mumbled, pushing up from her rock and back to her feet. "But I don't know what Geralt thinks you should know yet." Aislin sighed heavily at the obvious distaste to the situation on Shani's face. "I'm sure -"

"You don't know him," Shani said, just a bit of bite in her voice, with her eyes turned to the warm sun and it's thankless rays. "I..." She looked over at Aislin, an apology in her eyes. "I don't mean that...in any _bad_ way...but you just don't know him, Geralt will finish this contract without saying anything to me."

Aislin wanted to say she knew enough, that she knew Shani was right, but... "It comes with the job," she mumbled, giving Shani a weak smile. "I've been waiting for Olgierd to come home for almost twenty years."

"He's not a Witcher though," Shani mumbled; unless she had missed something, Olgierd von Everec was as far from a Witcher as a man could get. 

Aislin shook her head. "No," she said, reaching out to place a hand against Sashi's nose when she offered it, soft lips clumped with bits of grass. "But we are both still waiting, are we not?"

Shani stared at Aislin with widened eyes for only a moment, bursting into laughter and pulling a chuckle from Aislin's lips. "I like you," Shani finally said, once her laughter had died down. 

"I like you too," Aislin admitted. "I had a friend once, in Olgierd's wife, but it was so brief...I don't know if it was truly a friendship or not."

"These people mean so much to you, even the wife of the man you care for." Aislin felt herself cringe at Shani's words, but she did not deny them. "You have a good heart, it seems wasted on your current situation."

Aislin chuckled. "That's basically what Geralt said."

"Geralt can care about a person," Shani said, sighing deeply, obviously thinking on fond memories that Aislin could have guessed about when she first met Shani; it was all in a person's eyes, you could tell exactly what they were thinking if you knew where to look. "But he gets lost in logic." Shani chuckled this time, looking back over at Aislin. "But, men have always been unable to truly understand a woman's drive when it comes to someone they love."

* * *

With time at a stand still, Geralt is sweating at his hair line.

Gaunter O'Dimm has a near hungry gaze fixated on Geralt from where he sits on the table top, but his pupils are transparent glass to the Witcher, and he can see that his intentions lie somewhere else.

 _Aislin_ _._

"Who are you, really?" Geralt asks, hands calm and uncoiled against the wood of the table.

"Gaunter O'Dimm," he says, swinging his arms out exuberantly. "Also known -"

Geralt grits his teeth, curls his fingers into loose fists; O'Dimm notices, surely. "Not what I'm asking," the calm in his voice surprises Geralt himself.

O'Dimm's smiles seemed even more sinister now, his arms slowly lowering down to his lap. What was Geralt to do, fight the demon in the midst of the inn, giving no thought to the innocent people completely unaware of the danger within arms reach - no, Geralt had to remain calm and talk to this _demon_.

"Ah," O'Dimm pops his lips and adjusts in his spot, something glimmering in his irises; Geralt keeps it in mind to not look in his eyes, there was no trust to be given to evil beings. "so, you'd rather know what it is I do?" He looks over at the man - one of Olgierd's many henchman - beside him with a cold glance, eyes roaming up and down his face, "In brief, I give folk what they ask for." He looked back to Geralt, giving the Witcher a disarming smile, were he just a passing human. "You might say I simply grant their wishes."

"And drop them in a world of hurt," Geralt spits out, his patience wearing thin with Gaunter O'Dimm.

He had no trust in him when they met, and now that he was involving Aislin more and more, Geralt had a developing feeling of rage towards this thing; he knew he could not best him in a fight, he knew Gaunter O'Dimm could snap his fingers and turn him into paste, or worse. If Geralt said what he wanted to, would he go after Aislin instead? She was just a dreamer, with weak offensive magical abilities, that she had no true control over in the first place, she would be easy pickings for Gaunter O'Dimm.

But, then again, why had he not harmed her yet?

"No, not I. That would be their poorly formulated wishes." Geralt narrowed his eyes at O'Dimm when his irises darkened, his smile stretching out his lips thinly to small curls in the corners. "I'm no cheat. I give folk what they want, nothing more. That they oft desire unworthy things - _that_ is entirely the fault of their rotten natures."

Geralt grunted. "You're not human, that's clear." He narrowed his eyes once again, and O'Dimm's smile widened a bit more, enjoying himself. "So, what are you? A demon? A djinn?"

The smile on Gaunter O'Dimm's face dropped suddenly, his eyes trailing down the table top as he contemplated his response, which peeked Geralt's interest a bit. If he _did_ give Geralt an answer, it was sure to be a lie, he would give Geralt the run around no matter what in the end. Geralt had no high hopes, even watching the Man Of Glass ponder on his own response, the question at hand.

"Do you really wish to know?"

Geralt paused. "Yes."

There was no falter in O'Dimms expression, deadly serious. "No, Geralt, you don't. This one time I shall spare you and not grant your wish. All who have learned my true name are now either dead, or have met an even worse fate." O'Dimm paused, hands outstretched at his sides. "Yet," he continued, lowering his hands back to his lap. "I still need you."

"And Aislin?" Geralt leaned back slightly in his seat. "Do you need her?"

O'Dimm chuckled, his pupils glassy once again - so Geralt's suspicions earlier were correct. "I do not need the little dreamer."

"Then to what do I owe the pleasure?" Geralt's voice positively dripped with sarcasm, but O'Dimm grinned at the implication.

"I wanted to congratulate you. You acquitted yourself splendidly with Olgierd. In fact," he raised his hands once again. "You've nearly satisfied your debt."

Geralt growled softly beneath his breath. "Was supposed to fulfill his three wishes. Did just that." He gestured to his face. "This is where you remove the brand. 'Cause we're even."

O'Dimm chuckled. "Nearly." He sighed wistfully, a new smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "To fulfill the terms of the contract ot the letter, you must do one more thing," his words dripped with excitement, something akin to a child receiving a present. "draw Olgierd to the Temple of Lilvani."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I put so much into this chapter ya'll. I really hope everyone enjoyed this! One more chapter to go I'm so excited! 
> 
> Disclaimer: I know for a fact the final chapter may take some time, but it will absolutely not be a month before the next posting.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading ❤


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